The Coming Storm
by kiwiifeather
Summary: Book/Part 2 of a reboot of an old story covering the adventures of five warrior clans as they face a grave new challenges both from the outside and within. Set in New Zealand in present day. Rated T for canon typical levels of violence and the occasional cuss ;)
1. Allegiances & Clan Guide

**AN: Here it is! Part/Book 2 of my rebooted story! Excuse the titles for these by the way... I'm not great at them so if I come up with something better I will change them in the future lol.**

 _ **For new readers, please go read all of "Land of the Long White Cloud", before starting here!**_

 **The setting is several moons after the end of the first part/book... can you spot all the changes to the allegiances? In case anyone is curious, we had a body count of 16 (including leader's lost lives) between part 1 and the time skip! I wonder how many will come from this one...? As the title indicates, stuff is going _down!_**

 **The allegiances and prologue will go up today. I have lots of free time right now so expect a good update pace (I've got a buffer of about 13 chapters already...)**

 **As always, views, favourites, reviews, follows etc are all very much appreciated :)**

 **CLAN ALLEGIANCES & GUIDE**

 **FERNCLAN (31)-** _To the east of the lake and across the river from Marshclan territory are the forest-dwelling and prosperous Fernclan; generally honourable cats that follow the warrior code and that value honesty and loyalty. Their foliage lush territory is long but narrow following the river to the west and cliffs to the east. Their land stretches from the dirt thunderpath by Steep-Rise to a thin point meeting with Gorseclan. The river is often a site of border skirmishes with Marshclan, particularly in summer when the river has dried up. Up on top of the cliffs is a field where twolegs keep their sheep and is not part of clan territory; though sometimes cats will make the somewhat dangerous climb up the cliffs for the view. While nothing is stopping them from hunting there the forest is usually prey-rich and with the risk of the climb there is no need. The sheltered Fernclan camp is roughly in the centre of their territory; backed up against the cliffs on one side and surrounded by undergrowth on the other, it is easy to defend._ _ **Recently, there has been increased twoleg activity inside their borders, along with Marshclan starting up skirmishes at the river border again.**_ _Flamestar is an experienced and well-regarded leader._

 **LEADER:** Flamestar- a red ticked tabby tom with green eyes. 6 lives left. Mate of Willowwind.

 _Apprentice: Birdpaw_

 **DEPUTY:** Earthshatter- a large, heavyset chocolate mackerel tabby tom with hazel eyes. Mate of Duckwing.

 **MEDICINE CAT:** Sheepfur- a small white she-cat with thick long fur and yellow eyes.

 _Apprentice:_ Stormpaw- silver spotted tabby and white tom with amber eyes.

 **WARRIORS:** Beetlepelt- a black tortoiseshell bicolour she-cat with an interesting coat pattern and blue eyes.

Willowwind- black silver mackerel tabby she-cat with a lithe form and orange eyes. Mate of Flamestar.

 _Apprentice: Blackpaw_

Graniteclaw- black tom with amber eyes and large thick claws. Mate of Tuisong.

 _Apprentice: Barkpaw_

Wrenfeather- red silver ticked tabby she-cat with angular features and hazel eyes.

Grasstail- cinnamon silver ticked tabby tom with angular features and hazel eyes.

 _Apprentice: Frostpaw_

Lizardfang- fawn spotted tabby bicolour tom with green eyes. Mate of Riverrun.

Riverrun- dark blue tortoiseshell she-cat with a semi-long coat and green eyes. Mate of Lizardfang.

Silverheart- black silver mackerel tabby and white tom with green eyes. Mate of Roseear.

Shadestorm- powerful seal point with white tom with blue eyes.

Sparrowcrest- solid chocolate she-cat with a white spot on her chest. Green eyes.

Duckwing- black silver ticked tabby and white queen. Amber eyes. Mate of Earthshatter.

Keasong- black classic tabby and white she-cat with green and amber flecked eyes.

Lionmane- cream spotted tabby tom with hazel eyes, a nicked ear and thick fur.

 **APPRENTICES:** Frostpaw- solid white tom with one blue and one green eye.

Blackpaw- big black and white tom with all black feet and yellow eyes.

Birdpaw- chocolate ticked tabby tom with amber eyes.

Barkpaw- black silver mackerel tabby and white tom with green eyes.

 **QUEENS:** Roseear-lilac tortoiseshell bicolour with blue eyes. Mate of Silverheart. Kits: Specklekit (black tortoiseshell bicolour she-cat with blue eyes), Greykit (grey mackerel tabby tom with green eyes) and Woodkit (lilac classic tabby and white tom with green eyes).

Chilleye- young blue-eyed white she-cat with long legs and pelt. Mostly deaf. Lives with Queens full time and helps look after kits and nursing queens.

Tuisong- shiny black smoke classic tabby she-cat with piercing blue eyes. Mate of Graniteclaw. Kits: Ashkit (black she-cat with blue eyes) and Lichenkit (black smoke spotted tabby and white tom with amber eyes).

 **ELDERS:** Firefang- red ticked tabby tom with hazel eyes. Oldest cat in clan.

Nighttail **-** black she-cat covered in battle scars. Green eyes.

 **GORSECLAN (29)-** _South of Fernclan and with cliffs to the east and Fieldclan to the west, with unknown lands further south, Gorseclan is a generally a brave and strong-willed, if slightly prickly clan of cats. Their territory is mostly full of scrub and rocky outcrops with the odd small, rough tree, and this, along with a set of twoleg beehives found just outside their territory to the south, is what is blamed by other clans for the constant pointy thing clearly kept up their tailfur. Fortunately, as they are the bottom of clan territories with only a small border with Fernclan and the other with peaceful Fieldclan;_ _ **however, they are still causing trouble**_ _._ _ **Recently, their southern border has been shifted further down, making their territory larger.**_ _Their camp is found backed up against the cliffs; like Fernclan, though it is at the southern point of their territory, with the outside surrounded by dry gorse, broom and bramble. If the entry tunnels are blocked, the camp becomes nearly impenetrable. Icestar took over after the premature death of the last leader. He is a strong, experienced warrior,_ _ **but has recently started trying to expand his territory, taken in several rouges and is causing conflict with other clans in some kind of drive to gain power out of fear of a mysterious destruction foretold to him by Starclan.**_

 **LEADER:** Icestar- muscular, nearly pure white tom with black ears, a scarred face and orange eyes. Also has a scar on his neck. 9? lives. Mate of Sorrelfur.

 **DEPUTY** : Sorrelfur- lilac silver spotted tabby and white she-cat with green eyes. Mate of Icestar.

 _Apprentice: Honeypaw_

 **MEDICINE CAT:** Longtail- blue spotted tabby tom with an unusually long tail and hazel eyes and a large scar across his face, blinding him in one eye.

 _Apprentice:_ Venompaw- former rouge. A black spotted tabby van tom with amber eyes.

 **WARRIORS:** Thickstripe- large, thick-bodied black mackerel tabby tom with bright yellow eyes.

Smudgepelt- unusually marked seal tortoiseshell sepia with white she-cat; has a large dark patch on face, causing her stunning blue eyes to stand out.

 _Apprentice: Pebblepaw_

Windheart- silver seal tabby point tom with a white chest and paws and blue eyes. Mate of Flowerdust.

Mottledtail- long-haired black tortoiseshell smoke she-cat with light green eyes. Mate of Ruffledmane.

Dartwing- young thick furred caramel-shaded tom with green eyes and a distinctive ruff around his neck.

Runninghorse- black bicolour she-cat with amber eyes.

Smokeblaze- solid blue tom with orange eyes. Mate of Creampelt.

Ruffledmane- thick, messy-furred lilac ticked tabby tom. Mate of Mottletail.

 _Apprentice: Hedgepaw_

Hornetclaw- cream ticked tabby and white tom with fierce amber eyes.

Spiderstreak- tall black tom with green eyes; a former rouge.

Creampelt- cream spotted tabby queen with long fur and hazel eyes. Mate of Smokeblaze.

Dappledshade- chocolate tortoiseshell bicolour she-cat with ice-blue eyes.

Mistheart- chocolate smoke point tom with blue eyes.

 **APPRENTICES:**

Pebblepaw- solid grey/blue tom with hazel eyes.

Honeypaw- cream ticked tabby she-cat with orange eyes.

Hedgepaw- tiny fluffy black bi-color tom with amber eyes.

 **QUEENS:**

Flowerdust- cinnamon silver ticked tabby with striking green eyes. Mate of Windheart. Kits: Silverkit (silver classic tabby she-cat with green eyes), Autumnkit (light red ticked tabby she-cat with large white markings and blue eyes), Applekit (cinnamon silver ticked tabby tom with green eyes) and Cavekit (seal-pointed tom with blue eyes). Adopted kit: Rookkit (solid black she-cat with amber eyes)

Hare- expecting brown ticked tabby queen with a white tail tip and green eyes. Former rouge.

 **ELDERS:**

Clayclaw- still intimidating cream smoke tom with hazel eyes.

Smallstep- one-eyed she-cat; black silver ticked tabby with amber eyes. Oldest cat in clan.

 **FIELDCLAN (29) -** _These gentle, unobtrusive but determined cats have the most borders shared with another clan of any of the five clans found by the lake; only to their south are there no clan cats; marked by a twoleg fence and the large cattle often found on the other side of it. To the north is Marshclan along with the Great Hollow where gatherings take place, to the west Gustclan, and to the east Gorseclan along with the very tip of Fernclan's southern border. Having so many other clans at their doorstep can make these cats a little nervous, but they do their best to avoid trouble and are can summon unexpected ferocity to defend their home, loved ones and clan._ _ **Recently, Gorseclan have been trying to push the border into their territory, resulting in several skirmishes.**_ _ **The rouge group, having thrown Gustclan into disarray, have also now turned their attention to Fieldclan as well.**_ _Their land is mostly open, lush grass and flower fields, along with a pine forest on their western side. Their territory prized for growing ingredients for medicinal uses. Within the pines where their camp is found, hidden in a pile of fallen pines and the undergrowth that has grown up around them. Their leader is Murkstar; considered to be slightly too easy going; though his own clan knows he can get serious when needs be._

 **LEADER:** Murkstar- dark mackerel tabby smoke tom with one white toe and hazel eyes. 8 lives. Mate of Blueshine.

 **DEPUTY:** Heronlegs- blue bicolor she-cat with very long legs and blue eyes.

 _Apprentice: Snowpaw_

 **MEDICINE CATS:** Deerspot- cinnamon spotted tabby and white she-cat with green eyes.

Lakegaze: compact black classic tabby tom with hazel eyes.

 **WARRIORS:** Possumtail: thin black classic tabby tom with a dark bushy tail and green eyes.

 _Apprentice: Ferretpaw_

Batear: Black tom with very large ears and orange eyes.

Hedgewhisker- tabby point she-cat with blue eyes and long expressive whiskers.

Nightcloud- black shaded tom with a white tail tip and chin and green eyes. Mate to Fantail.

Needleclaw- lilac silver classic tabby tom with razor sharp claws and hazel eyes.

 _Apprentice: Springpaw_

Gorseheart- fawn ticked tabby harlequin tom with hazel eyes.

Poppypelt- apricot tortoiseshell van she-cat with blue eyes.

Spiralfoot- caramel smoke bicolor tom with a twisted front right paw and green eyes. Mate of Brightwind.

Waspsting- large fawn shaded van she-cat with blue eyes.

Cloudblaze- chocolate bicolor tom with a large white blaze on face and hazel eyes.

Fantail- bushy tailed black bicolor she-cat with yellow eyes. Mate to Nightcloud.

Kiwifeather- chocolate tabby tortoiseshell she-cat with green eyes.

Bushtail- fawn bicolor tom with amber eyes.

 **APPRENTICES:** Ferretpaw- seal-pointed tom with blue eyes.

Snowpaw- seal lynx-point rosette snow Bengal she-cat with blue eyes. A former kittypet.

Springpaw- compact black tom with a white tail tip and yellow eyes.

 **QUEENS:** Blueshine- blue silver tabby van queen with blue eyes. Mate to Murkstar. Kits: Leapingkit (blue mackerel bicolour she-cat with hazel eyes), Skinkkit (blue tabby van tom with white toes and blue eyes), Earthkit (dark chocolate smoke van tom with hazel eyes) and Petalkit (blue spotted tabby bicolor she-cat with green eyes).

Brightwind- lavender queen with amber eyes. Mate of Spiralfoot. Kits: Palekit (lavender bicolor she-cat with green eyes) and Owlkit (chocolate tom with amber eyes and a fluffy coat)

 **ELDERS:** Houndleg- tall silver classic tabby bicolor tom with yellow eyes.

 **GUSTCLAN (17) -** _Shy and flighty but resilient and speedy Gustclan cats lay claim to the largest territory of all five clans; though theirs is hilly and sparse in both landscape and prey, so the other clans usually don't complain about this. Bordered by Fieldclan to the southeast and the Great Hollow by the northeast, with uncharted hilly, even mountainous terrain in all other directions; the Gustclan landscape is dominated almost entirely by dry grass and twoleg sheep. There are stands of pine; growing in straight lines alongside mankind's fences keeping their livestock where they want them and offering them some shelter. Fortunately for Gustclan, it also offers shelter for them. Prey can be sparse, particularly in summer as the grass dries out and then dies. True to the clan's name, a strong wind blows over the hills most of the time, though luckily the camp is sheltered from this wind in a large ditch by a stand of pines. With some shelter from the landscape here, some bushes have grown providing more places for the cats to make their home._ _ **Unfortunately, a large fire caused by lightning strike destroyed their camp and burned a large patch of their territory. The clan has been making do living at the Gathering Hollow. They have also lost several cats to the rouge group; leaving them vulnerable.**_ _Like Icestar, Finchstar is a newer leader, though in her case there are some doubts her cautious and somewhat sensitive personality is up to the task,_ _ **especially in the face of such horrible odds now facing her tiny clan.**_

 **LEADER:** Finchstar- young black harlequin she-cat with semi-long fur and green eyes. 8 lives

 **DEPUTY:** Tigertail-darkred classic tabby tom with a thick, heavily striped tail and hazel eyes.

 **MEDICINE CAT:** Fallheart- fawn classic tabby and white she-cat with hazel eyes.

 _Apprentice:_ Rockfang- former warrior who decided to train as a medicine cat after an extended stay during sickness. A young dark grey tom with a white blaze on face and chest and orange eyes.

 **WARRIORS:** Larkcry- leggy fawn spotted tabby tom with hazel eyes. Mate of Blackhorse.

Drakewing- black bicolour tom with slightly curled fur and orange eyes.

Rabbitpelt- sleek black silver ticked tabby bicolour tom with green eyes.

Windrunner- white tom with yellow eyes.

Skyblaze- blue spotted tabby bicolour tom with amber eyes. Mate of Goldwind.

Bramblefur- black classic tabby tom with orange eyes and a long pelt.

Racingbreeze- lilac tortoiseshell and white she-cat with blue eyes.

 **APPRENTICES:** None.

 **QUEENS:** Darkstreak-Black silver smoke van she-cat with semi-long fur and amber eyes. Heavily pregnant.

Goldwind- pale red shaded she-cat with white paws and green eyes. Damaged back leg causes permanent limp. Expecting Skyblaze's kits.

Blackhorse- Ebony queen with a white nose snip and yellow eyes. Mate of Larkcry. Kits: Pinekit (smoke spotted tabby tom with yellow eyes) and Daisykit (fawn classic tabby and white she-cat with hazel eyes).

 **ELDERS:** Lionfang-thin dark cream classic tabby tom with a thick, matted pelt. Half-deaf and blind. The oldest cat in all clans.

Rattail- black spotted tabby van tom with amber eyes and a very thin, long tail.

Streakingsun- light red mackerel tabby bicolor tom with tattered ears and green eyes.

 **MARSHCLAN (21) -** _Proud and quick-witted Marshclan cats are known mostly for their skill in navigating water and boggy terrain, along with being rather a defensive lot that are easily provoked. Their territory is largely swamp, with some forest and open grassland on their border to the east with Fernclan just before the river. The river and strip of grass on both sides of its banks are hotly contested between the two clans and it never seems to be quite clear who owns it. To their south is Fieldclan, and to the west is the Great Hollow. To the north is the lake; their territory wraps around the bottom and westward side of the lake. Technically as Marshclan own the bottom half of the lake as well; they sometimes fish and hunt waterfowl there, particularly along the shallows. A small island in the lake marks the end of their water border. Cats are not supposed to hunt there; it is a nesting place for waterfowl and allows them a safe place to replenish numbers and provide more prey in the future. The Marshclan dens are found beneath the largest weeping willow in clan territory; found near the Fieldclan border, it's branches touch and run along the ground, creating a sheltering curtain._ _ **Rouge scent and prey killed, but no cats sighted, has been recently causing a headache for the clan, along with their leader's eagerness to pick fights and a sickness the clan has just recovered from...**_ _Marshclan is led by Swallowstar, the oldest current leader among the five clans. He is rather brash and tends to hold grudges but was otherwise considered to be just and a good leader._ _**Due to his advancing age, recent illness and increasingly erratic behaviour, it is thought he will not be leader for much longer.**_

 **LEADER:** Swallowstar- black harlequin tom with a silvering muzzle; tall and elegant for a tom. Thin, with protruding hip bones and visible ribs. Yellow eyes. 1 life left.

 **DEPUTY:** Bluewind- blue tom with a heavily scarred face and green eyes.

 **MEDICINE CAT:** Thunderstream- large cinnamon tortoiseshell tabby she-cat with hazel eyes.

 **WARRIORS:** Tuataratail- thick tailed caramel ticked tabby tom with amber eyes. Mate of Goosedown.

Blackbird- glossy black she-cat with yellow eyes.

Bogclaw- tiny white tom with green eyes.

 _Apprentice: Lightningpaw_

Clawstrike- apricot classic tabby tom with hazel eyes. Mate of Redblaze.

Kakawing- fawn ticked tabby she-cat with green eyes and a large tear in left ear.

Ratapelt- swift deep red mackerel tabby bicolor tom with amber eyes.

 _Apprentice: Windpaw_

Mouseheart- timid little brown tabby van tom with orange eyes.

Hawkfang- dark lilac silver spotted tabby tom with a powerful build and hazel eyes.

 _Apprentice: Firepaw_

Huiafeather- lilac bicolour she-cat with yellow eyes.

Whitewind- white tom with a long coat and blue eyes.

Redblaze- red spotted tabby and white queen with green eyes. Mate of Clawstrike.

 **APPRENTICES:** Lightningpaw- apricot smoke she-cat with green eyes.

Firepaw- red mackerel tabby tom with green eyes.

Windpaw- apricot spotted tabby and white she-cat with hazel eyes.

 **QUEENS:** Goosedown- grey-blue and white she-cat with luxurious long fur and orange eyes. Pregnant with Tuataratail's kits.

 **ELDERS:** Leopardtail- black spotted tabby she-cat with orange eyes. Oldest cat in Marshclan.

Oakfur- red classic tabby and white tom with green eyes.

Barkfoot- black smoke tabby tom with dark feet that look constantly muddy and green eyes.

 **CATS OUTSIDE CLANS:**

Moonfall- Guardian of Starfalls. A blue silver and white classic tabby she-cat with a long, flowing coat and blue eyes.

Jock- resident farm-cat from nearest two-leg property that occasionally ranges near clan territory; a handsome black bicolor tom with yellow eyes.

Rowanfall- deep shaded red ticked tabby tom with dark green eyes and a semi-long pelt. Formerly of Gorseclan.

Lila- kittypet at Jock's farm. Grey she-cat with yellow eyes and a long pelt. Former rouge.

 **ROUGE GROUP:**

Fang- green-eyed ginger tom with large teeth and a stocky build.

Graves- sleek grey tom with a thin, patchy pelt and pale-yellow eyes. Mate of Cherry.

Flax- classic brown tabby and white she-cat with green eyes.

Cherry- dark ginger and white she-cat with hazel eyes and a long pelt. Mate of Graves.

Grey- pale grey bicolour tom with green eyes.

Shriek- thin dark spotted tabby tom with yellow eyes.

Button- small round blue/grey bicolour tom with green eyes.

Scree- dark spotted and white tabby she-cat with amber eyes.

Sting- brown classic tabby tom with a white chest and green eyes. Rouge leader.


	2. Prologue

**AN: A meeting takes place between two parties under the cover of darkness...**

Two tom cats sat side by side in the darkness; one large brown tabby tom and a skinny grey with an unhealthy, thin pelt. They were almost unnaturally still in the cool air. Their eyes gleamed in the crescent moon light. The two cats didn't even flinch as an owl shrieked from somewhere nearby in the gloom.

"They're late again." The grey said quietly, breaking the silence after several moments.

The tabby blinked; green eyes flashing as they glanced to the other cat beside him. "I'm almost certain he's just doing it to annoy me."

"Or to prove you are completely at his beck and call…" Pale yellow eyes held the tabby's gaze. "Are you?"

"Graves don't start with this with me again, you'll regret the outcome." The tabby growled lowly, just ever so slightly showing his claws.

Graves, as the grey was called, widened his eyes slightly. "No need to threaten me, Sting. I'm not challenging you; I understand my position just fine… All I want to know is if you understand _yours_."

"We'll see." Sting replied carefully, before he lifted his nose to sniff. "Finally." The ones they had been waiting for were close. Their unpleasant odor (in Sting's opinion) was wafting towards them on the air.

A leggy black tom slipped through the undergrowth first, followed by a hulking white with black ears and a scarred face.

"I was starting to think you had forgotten to give me the pleasure of your company, Icestar…" Sting said softly, his voice far sweeter than it had been moments ago. Sting also spared a glance at the black tom. "And you as well, Spider _streak_ …"

Graves looked Spiderstreak up and down. "You've gotten _fatter_ again Spider… Clan life is clearly treating you _very_ well." Despite the insult his words held, the grey tom's tone was still gentle and neutral, like he was simply offering a normal greeting. "Or are you stress-eating now your ex-mate is back in your life with a litter that's not yours in tow?"

Spiderstreak hissed, fur bristling, but Icestar was quick to move in front of him, diffusing the tension. "We have not time for petty jabs you two." He turned to the tabby. "What do you have to report?"

Sting narrowed his eyes. "Not even any pretend niceties huh? Fine." He shook his head. "Grass is starting to grow back in the burnt area of Gustclan territory, but the camp is still unusable. Graves here overheard a patrol talking about using a large empty rabbit warren in the unburnt area as an alternative."

"Makes sense they are looking; the clans aren't going to keep letting them live in the Great Hollow forever. It can't support them." Spiderstreak said, glancing at Icestar. The big tom looked thoughtful.

"What else?" He asked.

"We've kept heckling them but haven't managed to make another kill." Sting grunted, looking almost bored with the idea. "A couple of the females look with kit."

"Noted… And Fieldclan and Marshclan?"

"Stealing prey and making sure we leave scent, as you asked. We are focusing mostly on Fieldclan." Graves answered this time. "I could have had my group take cats out a couple of times, but we've waited for your say."

"Good. You've started unnerving them already from what I saw last gathering."

"As if Swallowstar needed it. The old fool has lost the plot." Spiderstreak said with a cold laugh.

"He'll be gone soon enough. Bluewind too if we're lucky. I'd rather not deal with him with extra lives." Icestar grunted. "As for Gustclan, we cannot allow them a false hope to rebuild. It was Starclan's mistake; their clan should have never _been_ in the first place. The territory isn't viable and it's a waste having five… I think it's time we give them their choice." An intense orange gaze met a cool green one. "You know what to do."

"And am I expected to risk my cats alone? I'm not seeing much benefit in all this for us, only less risk for you." Sting replied with a curled lip. "I still haven't forgotten what you had us do to Summer for your _greater good_. Fang nearly killed me over it."

"You'll have all I promised and more once this is over." He chuckled. "Maybe I'll give you Marshclan; do you like getting wet?"

Sting didn't laugh, so Icestar snorted, flicking his tail as if he had told the other cat this many times. "I _must_ unite us if we are to face what's to come. You rouge cats won't survive without me either; nobody will."

"And yet _still_ we are forced to _scrape_ by on your edges while we do your dirty work. You've already taken more of our land. There's not a lot left that's got a lot of prey you know."

"I already _told_ you." Icestar said firmly, looking like he was losing his patience. "The cats in Gorseclan won't just accept all of you at once, and I need to ensure their total loyalty before I make more provocative moves. I took on Hare and Venom and it went better than expected. It won't be long before we can bring in more of you… I _keep_ my word Sting, of that I promise to anything you may hold sacred."

"There's little in that category, but fine, Icestar. I'll keep my cats playing along… But we won't be able to take Gustclan alone."

"Oh, you won't be alone… I think it's time my clan takes a more active role."

"Finally." Muttered Graves, though a glare from Sting had him fall silent.

"Excellent." The tabby purred with a dip of his head.

Icestar, seeming to think it was the end of the conversation, turned to leave. "I'll have Spiderstreak give you a time."

"Hold on Icestar. I have another little snippet you might be interested in."

"Oh?"

"That little red tom you exiled that's been a thorn in your fur… We had a run in with him on your southeast border. He didn't come off best in the exchange." Graves offered after a look from Sting, looking amused.

"Is he dead?" Icestar asked, ear twitching with interest, face neutral.

"No, he got away, and gave Flax some new scars to boot… Why, do you want us to track him down and take care of him? You should have killed him in the first place… It would have brought his silence forever." Graves flashed his claws in the pale light.

"If you thought he was going to crawl back and bow to you Icestar after seeing the error of his ways, it seems you were mistaken." Sting seemed similarly entertained by the situation.

Icestar didn't look impressed by the rouges finding it funny though. He bared his teeth, trying to stay composed. "A waste of a strong potential ally is what it was; a waste of young warrior… I thought perhaps I had brought him correctly to my side like Dappledshade."

"You mean like an obedient tool?" Graves interrupted as he side-eyed Sting, who flattened his ears at him. "Considering he's been stealing your prey and harassing you in your own territory, I'd say that failed spectacularly." Icestar was bristling; his patience for the snide rouges nearing its end.

"Rowanfall couldn't see my truth past his emotions and it's clear his time alone hasn't changed that. That was my error; I will _correct_ it myself…" Icestar started padding away with Spiderstreak following silently in tow. The white tom glanced back over his shoulder, one orange eye burning in the darkness. "Leave him to _me_."


	3. Chapter 1

**AN: And here's our POV character introduced! It's the fun-loving Keasong of Fernclan (formally Keapaw)! Our other POV is Snowpaw in Fieldclan. At this stage of where I am in writing, they are the only two, as I like to keep it to two per entry.**

Keasong crouched in the dense undergrowth, watching a greenfinch foraging in the leaf litter a few cat-lengths ahead of her. Though it was leaf-fall, and it would be leafbare before long, Fernclan's territory was still lush. Many of the plants in the forest were evergreen and provided cover and shelter all year round. It was why their territory was one to envy.

The finch needed to get a bit closer. Her clanmates were hunting nearby… if she allowed this bird to make a loud distress call before she killed it, she could ruin their hunts. And quite frankly she couldn't be bothered listening to Lionmane whine today. He was her brother; she already heard him whine enough on a regular day as it was.

So, she sat there and waited, patient as she could be. The tabby and white she-cat listened carefully as she watched the finch. She was close to the Gorseclan border, and with all the trouble they'd been causing lately, she didn't think it was impossible one could come over it. They'd left Fernclan alone so far, but Flamestar seemed to think it wouldn't stay that way forever.

Keasong still couldn't quite believe everything that had happened in the last few moons. From the fire that destroyed Gustclan territory, to the continuing presence of rouges, to Gorseclan starting border fights with Fieldclan. And now even Marshclan was getting tetchy at the river border (not that this was exactly unusual, it had just been quiet on that front for some time) while twolegs kept coming and messing around in their forest. It was all so crazy! She wouldn't have believed it all if she hadn't heard about it with her own ears at gatherings.

But there was one thing she still didn't believe, even though she had heard it at a gathering herself, back when she was still an apprentice… Rowanfall; an _exiled traitor_ … Icestar warned them about him; told him he'd been conspiring with another clan (though didn't name that clan, just to keep everyone on their toes) to bring Gorseclan down… No, no, she didn't think so! Sparrowcrest kept saying it was just the remnants of a silly young crush on a handsome tom talking, but Keasong was _adamant_ it couldn't be true. At least not all of it. The Rowanpaw she had seen and spoken with just didn't seem like the kind of cat to kill his mentor and attack his leader! He had _loved_ Kowhaifall and greatly admired Icestar! He had been loyal to his clan. Nope, she refused to think it was true. _Something_ had happened in Gorseclan, but she just couldn't figure out _what_.

Still, nobody had seen him since his banishment (or if they had, nobody was saying so at gatherings), so many cats assumed the new loner or rouge or whatever he was now had left the clan territories or died. Keasong couldn't really believe that either. At least she hoped it wasn't true. Especially the died part. She realised her affection for the prickly, overconfident, mousebrained tom was shallow and _silly_ , but still… She just wondered what had really happened…

Ah drat! She'd been so deep in through she hadn't noticed the finch fly away! Keasong sat up, flattening her ears. Dammit. She sighed. Ah well, time to look for something else then…

The tabby and white she-cat came across a nice smell, but it turned out to be a buried thrush. One of the others must have caught this and cached it so they could come back for it later. She could just pick up Lizardfang's scent on the moss. Keasong buried it again carefully and kept moving. Lizardfang would be irritated if she lost him the catch by not doing it properly.

Keasong's ears twitched and eyes darted about. Her whiskers quivered with anticipation. There had to be something else with a beating heart around here…

A sound of movement a distance away caught her attention as she padded softly across moss and fallen leaves. The shifting of stone or earth; the rustle of foliage. Something alive was defiantly over there. And it sounded pretty big too… _Nice_! A fat wood pigeon or possum or something would go over well.

Keasong hesitated, one paw in the air. It was getting dangerously close to the border, but it was over where there was a thick wall of twisty, tangly wild blackberry and shrubs. Rowanfall had gotten stuck there once. It had been how they'd met, in fact. Gorseclan wouldn't come through that way if they were going to attack; there was a much clearer part of the southern border to breach.

Justification (and maybe a rumbling tummy) had her move towards the sounds of the animal. As she drew closer, nearing the cliffs that ran parallel to Fernclan territory, she realised there was an unpleasant smell wafting under her nose. At first, she wondered if it was a smelly boar or something, as the wild pigs sometimes came through this way if they were in clan territory, but then she realised the smell was of something festering. Whatever this creature was, it was likely injured or sick. If it was sick, it would likely be no good as prey. Wow what was her luck today!?

Still, Keasong proceeded, though with more caution. Even if it wasn't edible, she should probably still check it out. If it was something suffering, she could put it out of its misery at least…

What she came across was about the last thing she could have expected.


	4. Chapter 2

"Why am I not surprised it's you…" His voice was a rasp (to go with the poorly state of the rest of him), as he lay there awkwardly by the cliffs under a patch of blackberry.

" _Rowanfall_ …?!" Keasong couldn't believe her eyes. At first, she almost didn't recognize him. His lovely red ticked tabby pelt was dirty and tangled, not sleek and clean like it used to be. He was thin; though not dangerously so. He probably hadn't eaten in a little while… What was also noticeable was hard muscle, likely from a combination of maturing since she had last seen him and a hard, active life.

"I guess so. I'm almost surprised he didn't retroactively revoke that name as part of the punishment... I almost wish he had." Rowanfall's body wasn't the only thing that had aged since the last time Keasong had seen him those moons ago. His face looked older too; somewhat drawn. One cheek was swollen, likely from an abscess, and there was a new scar above one eye. There was _something_ in those tired eyes that she couldn't place… Those eyes that used to pull her in with bright light that spoke of a mind at work; no matter how sharp that gaze was.

Keasong, shook her head a little, realizing with embarrassment she had probably been staring. Rowanfall was giving her a flat stare back. She had a million questions. "Where have you _been_? What happened in Gorse-?"

"Can we do all the questions later Keapaw? I kind of _need help_ , and this was the only place I could think to go. I can't do much about this myself, and I figured Fernclan was the one clan least likely to turn me away or _kill_ me so…" His gaze shifted to his side, where a nasty wound that look infected lay. Keasong realized that was where the bad smell was coming from. The tom chuckled lowly, not seeming nearly as worried as the she-cat thought he should be. "Ironic it was _you_ , finding me _here_ of all places." He wore a strange expression, almost something like nostalgia.

Keasong's mind was only on the physical state he was in though. He still seemed spunky enough, but a wound like that needed treatment sooner rather than later. "Oh Starclan, you need to see Sheepfur!"

"Yep." Rowanfall sounded rather resigned. He lay his head on the ground. He looked exhausted. Keasong wondered when he last ate or slept.

"The rest of the hunting patrol won't be far! I'll get them to help!" Keasong said quickly, in her best confident reassurance voice, turning to go after them.

"You do that." Rowanfall shut his eyes as she looked back over her shoulder with some hesitation.

"Oh, and it's Keasong now! I was made a warrior a little while after you… left."

"That's nice."

The tabby felt bad leaving him there alone, even if it was only for a few moments, but she'd never be able to drag him to the medicine cat herself. There didn't seem like there was anything that could hurt him nearby. Pigs and twoleg dogs didn't come through this way often, and the trees were too thick for a harrier to get to him. She could hear magpies warbling somewhere nearby, but they wouldn't go after a live cat… Right?

Right. "I'll be back in a swish of a tail!" Rowanfall grunted wordlessly. She trotted off with a hurried step.

Lionmane wouldn't be happy about this. He'd been sore about Rowanfall ever since the red tom had given him that nick in his ear.

In fact, she could think of a lot of cats that wouldn't be happy. She just hoped that Sheepfur would agree to treat him and Flamestar wouldn't kick him out. She had so many things she needed to ask him, and she didn't like the idea of sending him back out again! Look where it had gotten him this time; hurt and thin and matted! Nope, she wouldn't stand for it!

Distracted once again, she didn't see Lizardfang weaving around a tree trunk until she about collided with him. "Keasong, watch where you are going will ya?!" The older tom spat. He had obviously come to retrieve his kill.

"Lizardfang!" The tabby exclaimed. He wasn't really the best choice to have come across, but it was better than nobody. "There's an injured cat- we need to get him back to camp to see Sheepfur!"

"An injured cat?" Lizardfang's eyes narrowed with suspicion. "Not one of ours I take it? If it's a Gorseclan cat they can go to their own dratted medicine cat!"

"Well, it's not exactly… uh. Just come see." Keasong turned back not waiting for an answer, but she heard a sigh and Lizardfang's pawsteps behind her.

When she reached where Rowanfall lay, Lizardfang stopped dead as he took in the red tom. The connection of who it was based off a description given at a gathering some moons ago connected behind his eyes. "Is that the _Gorseclan exile_?" He hissed, shoving Keasong's shoulder and glaring at her with a lowered head. "You can't be serious!"

"Lizardfang _please_. He's injured and thin and…"

"Oh, my sweet Starclan."

"He won't _hurt_ anyone! He couldn't like that anyway!"

"Please, I'd still kick your tail even like this." Rowanfall rasped, though he didn't lift his head or even open his eyes. "You Fernclan cats can't fight properly."

"Rowanfall that is _not helping_!"

"I'm not _going to_ I'm just saying-"

" _Fernstar's starry pelt_ … okay. Just. _Shut up_. Both of you." Lizardfang glanced between the two younger cats. "Look. I'll help you take him back to camp... Dark Forest'll take me if I leave a cat to rot I guess." Lizardfang grumpily and reluctantly agreed.

He glared at the she-cat. "But this is all on _you_ , got it?!" Keasong nodded quickly. "After that, it's up to Flamestar."


	5. Chapter 3

**AN: Extra length chapter because why not!**

Rowanfall, for all he was clearly highly displeased with his current state, either didn't have the energy or saw better than to protest or wriggle much as the two Fernclan cats supported him enough to get him back to the Fernclan camp.

Lionmane was going to be annoyed alright. They'd outright ditched him and Silverheart. Still, he'd figure out they'd gone back to camp eventually.

In the sheltered leafy Fernclan camp, the cats mingling about eyed the trio with great interest as they entered.

"Is that a Gorseclan cat?" The elder Firefang grumbled from the elder's den entrance where he was laid up in the sun. He wasn't looking his best after a bout of whitecough but had recovered well and would be with them for a while yet according to Sheepfur. He sniffed the air suspiciously, crinkling his nose. Rowanfall still smelled like Gorseclan in a way, but the scent was now faint and layered over into something unique from his time away from the clan. Firefang was peering at them with failing sight. "Or not? What have you two rapscallions brought home?"

"Don't worry about it Firefang, I'll tell you later!" Lizardfang yelled back as he ushered the little group hurriedly into Sheepfur's den. More curious cats were noticing what was happening so it was best to get out of the way before they got trapped!

Fortunately, the fluffy white medicine cat was there. Sheepfur was organizing her herbs with her apprentice Stormpaw. At Keasong's mew, she turned. Her gentle expression turned shocked. "Oh, my goodness!" She cried as she hurried over while the other two cats lay Rowanfall down in a mossy nest. "Who is this? What happened?"

"Rowanfall. He's the cat Icestar kicked out." Keasong explained. "I found him like this inside our border." She couldn't answer what happened herself.

Rowanfall remained non-forthcoming with the information, only grunting to confirm his identity.

Stormpaw lingered curiously, taking a peek at Rowanfall's wound and looking like he was already thinking about how to treat him.

Lizardfang didn't stick around. "I'll go find Flamestar." He left unceremoniously while Sheepfur examined Rowanfall. Keasong was grateful for their kind medicine cat; it didn't matter where her patients came from; seemed she'd look after them all the same.

"That big wound is nasty. Stormpaw, fetch what we need for infected wounds please." She paused after parting some of Rowanfall's dirty red fur. "And some mouse bile. I see a few ticks." The apprentice was moving before she finished the sentence. "A blessing that one is, really." She purred merrily to Keasong as she kept prodding about Rowanfall. He hissed when she poked his swollen cheek with a soft paw. "A cat bite?" She asked him. "Do you feel feverish?"

"…Yes." The tom grumbled. Boy did he look like he hated his life right now. In different circumstances Keasong would be finding this beyond hilarious.

"You've been in the wars, poor love… We'll have to deal with that abscess too." She looked over her shoulder, calling to her apprentice. "And could you fetch him some…" Stormpaw placed a curved bit of bark filled with water down in front of Rowanfall before moving away again, gathering herbs in his mouth. "…water. What did I ever do without you Stormpaw?" Sheepfur chuckled to herself as Rowanfall rolled his eyes but gratefully lapped up the water.

Stormpaw seemed to be a born medicine cat, and Sheepfur had taught him well. It probably wouldn't be long now before he "graduated" and got his full name. Idly, Keasong wondered what it would be.

Sheepfur then turned to Keasong. "Be a dear and fetch this one something from the fresh-kill pile, would you? It wouldn't hurt him to eat something. And something for us for later wouldn't go amiss either!" The white she-cat added with a chuckle.

"Do you want anything in particular?" Keasong asked Rowanfall as Sheepfur moved away to help Stormpaw.

"Don't care. I'd eat a rat at this point." He replied sullenly.

Keasong's ears twitched back slightly. "Look, I get you aren't happy about all this, but it wouldn't kill you to say; "thank you for helping me Keasong", "thank you for not leaving me to die under some blackberry and have my eyes pecked out by magpies Keasong"…would it?"

Rowanfall sighed, and he looked her in the eye for the first time since she had come across him. "Thanks." It was awkward and stiff, but at the same time, it didn't sound like it was totally insincere.

Well it was better than nothing.

Exiting the den Keasong eyed the fresh-kill pile critically. It was well supplied. What did they usually eat in Gorseclan? She had already pulled out a tui for Sheepfur and Stormpaw to share. Someone had done well to catch that! She was sure the medicine cats would appreciate the rare treat.

She was picking the pile over in thought when Sparrowcrest, her best friend, approached her though the small group of cats that were all trying to peer inside the medicine cat den. "Uh, so… I just heard you brought that Gorseclan tom who got turfed into camp. True?"

"Yeah, I found him hurt by the border." She replied calmly, wondering if Rowanfall would like blackbird. There was nice fat one here… "Sheepfur and Stormpaw are looking after him now."

"Okay you are being waaaaay too nonchalant about that!" Sparrowcrest protested, giving her a prod with a paw to get better attention. Her voiced became more hushed, glancing around to make sure nobody was listening. " _Please_ don't tell me you still have that stupid obsession with him? I thought you were over that! He's not even _nice_ to you; you just like him because he's _handsome_!"

"I do not! And I'd help _any cat_ in his position!" Keasong shot back as she pulled the blackbird out of the pile. Of course she would! It wasn't just because it was Rowanfall! It hadn't just been because he was handsome either… Not that it mattered, because she _didn't_ anymore anyway!

Sparrowcrest clearly didn't believe her. Her voice was a worried hiss. "He's a _rouge_ now in case you didn't know! Attacked his leader? Killed his mentor? Is that ringing in your skull? _Starclan_ , Keasong! It was bad enough when he was just a cat in another clan! Chilleye _still_ gets flack for having kits with that wandering twoleg-barn tom; what do you think would happen when it's a _rouge_!?" The largely deaf she-cat had been charmed by the devilish and good-looking Jock, after coming across him one day. He had sired her two kits; Blackpaw and Frostpaw. A fate that had befallen she-cats before her and would probably befall others after her… Jock was very much a she-cat's tom, and with the clans nearby to his home, he had many to choose from. Understandably, he was not a popular cat in the eyes of many.

"How many times do I have to say I don't have a crush on him anymore for you to believe me?"

"When you actually say it without doing that thing where your voice raises a pitch that you always do when you _lie_."

"I'm not lying!" Keasong protested a little louder, turning away from the fresh-kill pile to face the chocolate coloured she-cat.

"See, you just did it again."

"Sparrowcrest!" The rest of Keasong's protest died in her throat as she noticed Flamestar appear from his den; padding with urgency in his steps over and into the arching ferns that covered the entrance to the medicine cat's little hollow.

The two she-cats followed his progress with their gazes in silence, and once he vanished, it was Sparrowcrest who spoke first. "Look, just… don't do or say anything stupid okay?" The sleek she-cat brushed her tail along Keasong's striped side as she moved away, allowing the other warrior to take her birds to the injured tom and the medicine cats.

Don't do anything stupid she says… jeez…

Keasong entered the den with her head low and with soft steps, well aware she was now interrupting her leader addressing Rowanfall.

"…Ah, Keasong. You came across this one, didn't you?" Flamestar asked. Well, his voice was calm as ever. That was a good sign.

"Yes, I was hunting and heard him rusting around near the Gorseclan border. He was just inside our territory. I didn't think it was right to leave him there." She reported immediately, carefully placing the blackbird down near Rowanfall's nest. The red tom slowly dragged it closer to him but didn't try and eat it yet. Clearly even he wouldn't be rude enough to eat when a leader was talking to him! She then put the tui over to the side for the medicine cats to eat later. Sheepfur gave her an appreciative chirp.

"Well you did the right thing; it would be wrong of us to deny a cat in grave need, no matter where they come from." Flamestar replied, bringing both relief and a touch of pride to Keasong.

Rowanfall was watching the older red tom with a flat look. "Okay let's cut to the chase." He grumbled. "I know my stay out of the kindness of your hearts isn't for _free_ …"

"You're astute." Flamestar replied, slowly looking back to Rowanfall with intent. "I'd like to ask you some questions." Keasong started edging closer to the exit, unsure if she had been dismissed but also desperately wanting to listen in. Nobody told her to leave, so she stood there silently near the entrance to the den, hoping not to be noticed.

"Then ask. My clan already think I've been conspiring with Fernclan; might as well go ahead and actually do it." Rowanfall chuckled to himself, lacking any actual humor.

"Ah, so that's what Icestar told your cats." Flamestar said, looking thoughtful. At the gathering Icestar hadn't named a clan.

"Not exactly _my cats_ anymore are they?" Rowanfall sounded decidedly bitter. "Icestar made sure of that. They all think I'm a traitor."

"Are you?"

"Well I _did_ try and kill my leader." The young tom's low words were punctuated with a hiss as Stormpaw applied some sort of poultice to his wound. The medicine cats were the picture of professional and seemed to be trying to ignore the conversation.

Flamestar blinked, perhaps taken aback by the blunt way Rowanfall had said it. Keasong could admit she was as well. He had always been a blunt cat, but he was still talking about trying to _kill_ his former leader! "That would generally come under a traitorous thing to do." The Fernclan leader replied carefully.

Rowanfall held Flamestar's gaze evenly. "He's conspiring with the rouges, has this grand plan of clan-wide domination in a demented attempt to stop some prophecy of doom, and stole kits and killed my mentor to hide it." The summary was business-like but there was certainly a bubbling anger running beneath it.

"Ah. Well, that's a fairly good reason then..." Flamestar, his brow furrowing, replied. It was hard to say what was going on in the leader's head. Keasong also didn't have a lot to say to that. Maybe " _yikes_ " … this Icestar was bad news. He'd always seemed a little scary, but this... It gave the she-cat an uneasy feeling deep in her stomach. And poor Rowanfall…

"He came up with a story that turned it all on me. The only reason he didn't kill me is it would have been harder to explain in a way that made him look good… They all believed him not me." Rowanfall bared his teeth, the hurt still clearly fresh. Keasong found herself hoping that the fight where she had convinced him to let her and Lionmane go hadn't been used against him… "Do _you_ believe me?"

"Based on Icestar's current actions… yes. That and you don't sound like you are lying to me... so I do. I'm sorry that happened to you, young one." Flamestar's apology sounded sincere. "I'll allow you to rest in a moment… first, one more question?"

"Sure."

"How did you get this wound?"

"The rouges." Rowanfall spat with disgust. "I came across them near Gorseclan's borders. I was trying to eavesdrop; they were talking about Gustclan I think, but they caught me… I tore one up pretty good though." He looked a little smug about that. "It got infected since I had no idea how to treat myself, then I couldn't hunt, and well, here we are."

Flamestar hummed in acknowledgement. "Thank you Rowanfall. You've given me some grave information I must think carefully about. I will return to speak with you again." The leader dipped his head respectfully. "In the meantime, you are welcome to stay as long as it takes for you to heal." What would happen after was left unspoken. Was the tom technically a Fernclan prisoner? Keasong wasn't sure.

Flamestar departed, not even glancing Keasong's way. His expression was worried. She heard him call for his deputy outside.

"Finally." Rowanfall muttered after Flamestar left, before digging into his blackbird with urgency. He was probably starving.

Keasong lingered awkwardly in the entrance. She wanted to offer apologies and comfort to the red tom, but he probably wouldn't appreciate either, especially not right now. "Um." Rowanfall glanced up at her, then back to the prey. "I'll come see you tomorrow, okay?" The tom grunted. She took it for a "fine", so she nodded her head to the medicine cats and departed.

As she padded towards the warrior's den, where Sparrowcrest was waiting for her, Keasong let out a deep sigh. What a day…


	6. Chapter 4

**AN: Here's Snowpaw! Tried to get a little unique clan culture in this chapter. I like the idea of clans having little things they do that separate them from the other clans. I'm going to try find more time to mention these little things now and then!**

 **Also, this story and it's OCs have a tumblr blog now "kiwibattlecats" it's the place to go if you want to easily see new character art as well as ask any questions!**

Snowpaw stretched, toes grasping at the soft earth and pine needles beneath her paws. She arched her back; feeling powerful muscles relive their stiffness from sleep, then let out a yawn as she straightened. It was a crisp, but clear morning overheard. The dawn sunlight was just peeking in through the pine branches above. A good day for dawn patrol…

"Good, you're up." Murkstar's voice sounded ahead of her. He was approaching with the rest of the patrol. Heronlegs, her mentor, was at his side. He was supposed to lead the patrol this morning, but Heronlegs wasn't meant to be coming…? And Possumtail was there. She was sure he wasn't assigned to patrol either.

"There's been a change of plan. Murkstar is going to head up to Starfalls, so I'll lead the dawn patrol." She commented, noticing Snowpaw's confused expression. "He's taking Needleclaw and Springpaw with him, so I'm going to take Possumtail and Ferretpaw with us instead. Go wake Ferretpaw please."

Snowpaw tried not to make a face. Ferretpaw's temper had gotten much worse after not being made a warrior with his siblings. He had nobody to blame but himself and his piss-poor attitude, in Snowpaw's opinion, but he decided to blame everyone else instead. Still, she did as she was told and turned to go back into the apprentices' den, where Ferretpaw was the last one asleep. The sweet smell in the den was strong. Fieldclan cats lined their nests with various flowers or scented leaves; it was part of what gave the Fieldclan cats their nice flowery clan scent. Snowpaw had taken a while to find a combination she liked, but had taken to picking wild rose petals and lavender flowers for her nest.

Behind her, she heard dark tabby leader speak to his deputy. "Be careful. We don't know when Gorseclan is going to try it on again."

"I will." Snowpaw heard Heronlegs answer solemnly. "I hope Starclan can offer you some guidance…" Snowpaw could only assume Murkstar was going to speak to Starclan about the Gorseclan situation, but then she wasn't privy to the thoughts of the leaders.

Hesitantly, she hovered her paw over Ferretpaw's creamy pelt that softly rose and fell with sleep. He was twitching quite a bit as he dreamed. His body was tense and a low, soft growl came from him. Maybe he was having a nightmare? His nest had always been noticeably empty of any sweet smelling flowers or plants. It irritated his nose, he said.

She then gave him a quick poke, figuring there was no point in procrastinating this... Ferretpaw shifted and grumbled but didn't quite wake up. With an intake of breath, ready for the explosion, Snowpaw prodded him again with a sharper jab.

The way Ferretpaw leapt up, spitting, you'd think she'd bitten him on the ear. She had to fling herself backwards to avoid a swipe with outstretched claws vaguely in her direction. "Watch it!" She spat at him.

The wild and glazed look from sleep faded from his eyes, but he quickly had them turning sharp as he took in what was going on. " _What_ , kittypet!?"

"You're on the dawn patrol now. We need to go." She replied bluntly. She had long since learned there was no point trying to temper Ferretpaw by being extra nice and polite with him. She had stopped just laying down and letting some of the more grumpy clan cats pick on her a long time ago. Leopardtail would be proud…

"Since when! I thought Springpaw was going?" Ferretpaw snarled back, though his bristling fur was starting to flatten.

"Murkstar has decided to go to Starfalls. He's taking Springpaw and Needleclaw with him." Snowpaw replied, already backing out of the den. "Heronlegs is waiting. Come or don't." Over to Ferretpaw if he wanted to hurry up and follow or not.

Fortunately, as it avoided another day of Heronlegs or someone else yelling at Ferretpaw, he followed quickly. When Snowpaw thought about it, he was probably happy to be going on dawn patrol instead of hunting later in the morning. With the ongoing issues with Gorseclan, he was chomping at the bit to get into a fight. So far, he had missed the previous skirmishes.

Snowpaw had been there for the last one. She had a still healing scratch over her nose from it but had gotten off lightly. Her combat training had paid off. She couldn't say she liked fighting, but she felt more confident about it now she'd had a real taste… None of their cats had been badly hurt or died, but a Gorseclan warrior had. It hadn't been nice, even though he had been an enemy. The black tom seemed to have been fighting in a reckless way, and he'd paid for it with his life. The Gorseclan cats had taken him back across the border. It wasn't the first dead cat she'd seen.

In the first border battle they'd lost Piedfur; apparently the Gorseclan deputy had struck the killing blow… Snowpaw hadn't spoken to the warrior much but was still more sad than she'd expected when the other cats had returned carrying their body. She had watched their mourning ritual with something like curiosity. She had never heard of kittypets doing anything like that from her mother or other relatives. Her mother had said that her grandfather was buried in the yard. She showed her the spot, where a rose was growing on top. The housefolk had buried him there, she said.

Fieldclan buried their dead too. All the clans did except for Gustclan, so Heronlegs said. They left their dead for the birds and other scavengers to pick over in a special place where the living cats never tread expect to bare the dead there, and then the clan cats would return once there was nothing but dry bones. The rest of the skeleton was buried but the skull; which was taken down into an old cave and placed with the skulls of their ancestors. It was a unique ritual that the other clans frowned upon. Nobody could remember how it started. When Snowpaw thought about it, she wondered if the cave had escaped the fire that had burned much of Gustclan territory black. Surely fate wouldn't be so cruel as to destroy all their ancestors remains along with everything else…

Heronlegs made sure the dawn patrol group was in order and left the senior warrior Nightcloud in charge of camp. It was risky, having both the leader and deputy gone in these troubled times, but she seemed confident the remaining cats could handle protecting camp if need be.

They then set off out the camp entrance. Snowpaw found herself thinking about Gustclan and wondered how they were doing as she walked in behind her mentor. Fieldclan had helped Gustclan for a while, but eventually Murkstar had to call an end to their aid. With leafbare on the way, they couldn't afford to keep offering herbs or prey to the clan, and with the issues of Gorseclan and rouges, they couldn't spare warriors.

Snowpaw didn't like the idea of leaving them to struggle alone, but she understood Fieldclan had to come first.


	7. Chapter 5

Snowpaw paused, sniffing the air. Heronlegs had frozen just a couple of cat-lengths ahead of her and crouched down in the tall grass. She couldn't detect what it was, but she trusted her mentor's judgement that there was something there. They weren't far from the Gorseclan border now after all. Next to her, Possumtail's eyes had already gone wide with nervousness. Waspsting and Cloudblaze tensed in place. The Bengal she-cat heard Ferretpaw's impatient huff behind her.

"Gorseclan." Heronlegs whispered just loud enough for them all to hear. The warriors moved up to be in line with the deputy; the two apprentices coming in just behind them. Snowpaw and Ferretpaw both found themselves trying to peer over their backs to see what was going on.

Just down a slope from the patrol, creeping through the grass and shrubbery, was a Gorseclan patrol. They were moving like a group of cats who definitely didn't want to be noticed. Which was a little odd. The other times they'd come across the border, they hadn't been sly about it at all. They'd yowled and marked and generally announced their presence boldly.

Icestar was leading the group. The huge white tom was unmistakable. His little black ears were flat against his broad, scarred head. His deputy Sorrelfur was with him too; the cat that had killed Piedfur… She looked small next to his bulk, but it was easy to see lithe muscle rippling beneath her spotted pelt. Behind the leading pair was a younger chocolate tortoiseshell and white she-cat who moved silently next to a leggy black tom; Snowpaw was sure that the tom was the first rouge Icestar had allowed to join his clan. The last two had been a pregnant cat and her older kit, according to news from the gathering… A black mackerel tabby tom and a cream ticked tabby and white tom with a similar build to Icestar brought up the rear. It wasn't a huge group, but with both the leader and deputy in the party they were a formidable force. They were all cats that looked like good fighters. The expressions on her clanmates faces made Snowpaw think that was correct.

"Where are they going?" Cloudblaze hissed quietly as his eyes followed the group. Hang on… He was right. The cats weren't moving in the direction one might expect; towards the Fieldclan camp. They were heading in a more northerly direction.

"Who cares, we should attack them _now_! They're trespassing!" Ferretpaw snarled, though he managed to keep his voice soft. Just. His fur was already standing completely on end; his teeth bared.

Heronlegs was watching with a grim expression, her lip curling slightly. The enemy patrol was moving away from them. "Marshclan?" She muttered, more to herself. "No, they could have just cut right through from their border. So where…?" She turned to Possumtail. "Go check our border markers. We'll wait here." Luckily from their higher slope, they'd be able to keep an eye on the patrol for a bit longer before it vanished. Possumtail nodded with a gulp and slunk away, his fluffy black tail vanishing into the grass.

It seemed like an eternity for him to come back, even though it was only moments. Ferretpaw was sinking his claws in and out of the ground. Snowpaw's tail was twitching nervously. Her gut was already churning unpleasantly. She didn't like the idea of their patrol having to take on Icestar and his brutes alone.

"Well?" Heronlegs asked, smelling Possumtail's return before he even slipped back into sight.

"They haven't moved the border markers. They're still where they were yesterday…" The tom replied as his dark head popped back into sight.

The deputy narrowed her blue eyes. "What are they _doing_ …?" The Gorseclan cats were out of sight now. She blinked. "Gustclan?" The group had been moving towards the direction of the Great Hollow. "Regardless… Lets follow them and see what they do. The wind is on our side." She flicked her tail, giving the signal, and the patrol moved in behind her.

Next to her, Snowpaw could see Ferretpaw's eyes gleaming with excitement and anticipation. She couldn't say she felt the same. She had a bad feeling about this…

They had been tailing the patrol from a safe distance for some time, getting closer to the border with Marshclan, when Possumtail froze to and whipped his head to the left. The group bristled, ready to attack.

Sure enough, a cat appeared, but the Fieldclan patrol relaxed as they realized it was one of their own. Batear gave his nervous brother a quick bump with his head then looked to Heronlegs. He was panting and had obviously been running. "There's-"

"Gorseclan, we know. We've been following the patrol from the border…"

"Yeah, I noticed them on my way here, but that's not what I'm talking about!" Batear replied urgently. Snowpaw had never heard such a panic in the normally relaxed tom's voice. "There's rouges; lots and lots of them! Way more than I thought there were!" Patrols had only ever seen four or five at a time. How many were there then?

"Where?!" Heronlegs asked sharply, keeping her voice hushed as possible with the Gorseclan cats not far away.

"They just passed by camp. They're moving up on the Gustclan border and at quite a pace. They didn't seem to care if we saw them or not." Batear's radar-like ears were twitching this way and that. He was likely trying to keep tabs on the Gorseclan cats and listen out for the rouges at the same time.

The deputy's eyes went wide. " _Passed_ -?"

"I know. We thought they were coming for us when Spiralfoot came across them hunting, but they went right past us…"

There was a beat of silence, then the Fieldclan cats all seemed to realize at the same time what was happening. Two fighting patrols of cats; the rouges and Gorseclan… bypassing Fieldclan entirely, headed for the Great Hollow…

Heronlegs said it first. "They're all going after Gustclan… _Together_."

Snowpaw looked at her mentor. Murkstar wasn't here. It was all on Heronlegs. "What are we going to do?" The _sensible_ thing would probably be stay out of it and let it happen. They were their cats. It wasn't their clan. But it didn't feel like the _right_ thing to do.

The tall blue she-cat sighed, unsheathing her claws. "At the very least they insult us by thinking they can just waltz though our territory to reach their targets like they own the place…" Ferretpaw's eyes flashed as Heronlegs' fur raised along her back. "Gustclan has suffered enough too."

Firm eyes fixed on the direction of the Great Hollow. "What would our ancestors think of us, if we let this be?" The huge oaks tops could be seen towering above all the other trees even from here. "I won't allow Icestar and those fleabitten rogues to just swan about doing whatever they like!"

"So, we fight?" Waspsting asked, baring her teeth. Snowpaw felt an awful thrill down her spine as Ferretpaw growled in satisfaction.

"We fight."


	8. Chapter 6

"Okay, you're _disgusting_." Keasong commented to Rowanfall as she took in the state of his pelt after dropping a mouse at his paws. She had only just gotten to bring him something to eat, as she had been out on the dawn patrol. "And I don't just mean your funky wounds!"

Behind the pair Sheepfur was arranging her herbs, trying to ignore them. Stormpaw had to be out doing something, as Keasong couldn't see him around anywhere. They had redressed Rowanfall's wound at some point by the looks of it. His cheek abscess had been lanced and had a poultice on it. He certainly looked to have a bit more life in him today; likely after getting something to eat and some decent sleep last night.

"I am _not_." The tom retorted before taking the mouse in his teeth to bring it closer. He glared up at her as he sat it between his front paws. "Don't you have something better to do than harass me?"

"Right now? Nope." The patrol hadn't taken that long. They'd seen twolegs in the north again. This time they were pulling out a lot of the blackberry and some other plants in the area. It was a damn nuisance. When they were there, they couldn't use that section of their territory for hunting. They scared all the prey away, and now they were ripping up all the undergrowth! What was with them? Keasong had joked to the rest of the patrol they should ask that kittypet that had joined Fieldclan next gathering. A kittypet should know a few twoleg words at least! "Flamestar told me since I was the one who brought you here, I have to look after you. So, I'm who you've got." She couldn't say she could complain about the assigned task, even if Rowanfall was a bad-tempered stick in the mud.

"Fantastic." Rowanfall grumbled, deciding that maybe taking a bite out of his mouse might make the warrior go away.

"Seriously though, when was the last time you had a proper groom?" The flat green-eyed stare she got made her regret the choice of words. He would have been grooming himself since he was exiled. Ooops. "Look, just let me do it. You look like something a dog's been chewing on and it's irritating to look at. Those mats _must_ hurt your skin?"

"Why do _you_ have to do it? Let the medicine cats do it."

"He says, like we have _time_ to sit there and groom him." Sheepfur laughed in the background, without turning her head. "Just let the cat clean you up Rowanfall; nobody else in this clan is going to offer and I'd say you'll feel better getting some of those knots fixed up. And be a touch more sightly as well."

"I hate all of you." The tom proclaimed loudly. He flattened his ears and went back to eating his mouse. Keasong took this as a grudging "go ahead". She approached him cautiously in case she was misreading, but when he didn't move she allowed herself to settle down next to him and start grooming.

His mane-like ruff and tail, the areas with the thickest fur, were in the worst condition, so Keasong started with his ruff. It had always stuck up a bit oddly, but right now it was a tangled, matted, dirty mess. She carefully worked away at separating the hairs with her teeth and rough tongue. Rowanfall's body started tense beneath his pelt, but after a while, he relaxed.

It wasn't until a little while after he'd finished his mouse that he spoke again, quietly. "Why do you care?"

"Hhmm?" Keasong asked with a little hum since she had a mouthful of his red fur; she hadn't quite caught that.

"Why do you _care_?" Rowanfall repeated, a little louder. "Why does your clan? I get that Flamestar wanted the information I had to offer, but none of you must treat me or be nice to me or _believe me_. You didn't have to let me stay here long; you have enough mouths to feed. He could have just kicked me out this morning and it wouldn't have surprised me."

The tabby and white she-cat paused in her grooming. Looking up, she could see Rowanfall's expression was actually showing confusion. "Fernclan wouldn't turn away a cat in your situation… that's all." Gorseclan might be different, but that was how Fernclan operated. Gorseclan only ever seemed to do something nice if they could benefit from it. "Flamestar always said if that kittypet hadn't had any offers from the other clans he would have found a way to make it work and take her in too."

Rowanfall huffed. "I don't get it, but I guess you Fernclan cats are a little more _Fieldclan_ than I thought."

"Are you calling us _soft_?" Keasong asked with a little joking twitch of an ear.

"Absolutely." He replied seriously, though Keasong got the impression the red tom was sort of in on the fun. It was hard to tell sometimes with him. She would have given him a playful shove but felt it might be crossing a line. Rowanfall was obviously still not completely comfortable, and she couldn't blame him after everything. She flicked her tail at him instead.

"You didn't answer my first question." He commented lightly after a moment, as Keasong went back to grooming. "Why do _you_ care?"

Keasong blinked, feeling her ears starting to go hot. She looked away from his face, worried the embarrassment would show. She thought she could hear Sheepfur quietly purring a chuckle in the back of the den. Sparrowcrest's words rang in her head. "I'm a Fernclan cat." She replied after a beat, calling back to her earlier explanation as she looked back at him with a set expression.

"Okay sure…" Rowanfall didn't sound convinced. His gaze was curious, and she could see his mind working beneath it; dark green eyes brighter than yesterday. Keasong found herself not quite able to meet them. "Why else? You said you thought we were friends, once."

"I did! I mean- I do. Still consider you a friend. I mean."

"Even though I was from another clan and wasn't really nice to you?" Rowanfall tilted his head. In that moment, Keasong could see his younger face in her mind's eye. He'd done the same thing at the first gathering they'd been to together, when she'd teased him. "I don't get you." She was pretty sure he'd said something along those lines too (although possibly in a ruder way...).

"I always thought it was just sort of the game we played. I had fun at least." Keasong just liked having fun. Too many cats were too serious!

"It was fun to _annoy me_ you mean?" Keasong found herself purring out a laugh at his flat response.

"I guess so." She replied, feeling a nostalgia for those more innocent days. Things were a lot more complicated and dangerous in the clans now than they were then. "You never seemed to be as bothered by it as you pretended to be."

"Maybe." Rowanfall responded with a little shake of his head. "Sometimes I think I was just grumpy and difficult for the sake of it. And I didn't want to lose face with my clan. Seems stupid to have been worried about that now."

"Difficult for the sake of it? Kind of like you've been here?" She teased lightly.

"Yeah. It's just how I am, I suppose…" Keasong would have questioned how open he was being with her right now, but she didn't want him to clam up again. Besides, he probably hadn't talked to anyone for moons. He likely needed to share tongues again. She wasn't his clanmates, but hopefully she could fill the role.

She kept cleaning his fur. His ruff was looking much better, but one stubborn tangle remained. Against her and Sparrowcrest's better judgement, she found herself blurting out. "I used to like you, you know."

"Yes, I got that with the "friend" part."

"No, I mean... _Like_ , like you." Immediately as the words left her mouth, she regretted them. _Why_ did she say that?!

Rowanfall froze. "Oh." He blinked once, slowly. His eyes were wide. " _Oh_." Was all he could say. He looked very surprised. Keasong could hear Sparrowcrest berating her stupidity already, and her ears went hot again.

Stormpaw happened to have returned at that moment. He chuckled as he passed by, eyeing the pair with amusement. "Don't look so _shocked_ Rowanfall, you're a good-looking tom! I'm surprised you didn't have cats falling all over you!"

Sheepfur glanced over her shoulder. "Stay out of it, _you_. Not medicine cat business." Stormpaw dipped his head with a laughing purr, moving to join his mentor in the back of the den.

The other two cats were left in awkward silence. Keasong began to hurriedly return her attention to the knot in Rowanfall's mane, thankful he didn't say anything more on the subject and thus she was free to drop it. Stupid, stupid, stupid! She always had to just blurt out the first thing that floated through her skull!

Rowanfall didn't meet her eye the rest of the time she sat with him and said little. He was all tense again.


	9. Chapter 7

The Gorseclan patrol ahead of them had picked up the pace and made excellent ground. They were not far from the Gathering Grounds; right on the edge of Fieldclan's northern border with the area, when the Fieldclan patrol caught sight of them again. Heronlegs had been ready to give the attack order, but…

The rouges were already there waiting, and there were _nine_ of them.

The Fieldclan patrol watched with mild horror as the two raiding parties joined together. A big tabby moved forward to greet the Gorseclan group. Maybe he was the leader? It seemed the Gorseclan cats save Icestar, his deputy, and the black tom, were all on edge about it. Snowpaw wondered if they had known about this.

Icestar was speaking to them. She couldn't hear what they were saying from where the patrol was hiding, waiting. "What do we do now?" Batear asked Heronlegs with a whisper. "We can't take them all."

"I know… We'll have to wait until they move to attack Gustclan…" Heronlegs didn't sound happy about it, but there wasn't much choice. They were outnumbered, outright. "Once they do, we'll join the fray. With our help, Gustclan can hopefully fend them off…"

"How many warriors does Gustclan have now?" Snowpaw heard Waspsting ask Cloudblaze behind her in hushed tones. Cloudblaze had a doubtful expression. Ferretpaw had been oddly quiet, but he was clearly antsy.

"Nine, including Finchstar and Tigertail." Heronlegs answered for the warrior, grimly. There were more cats in the clan, but they were medicine cats, queens, kits and elders. They would be vulnerable… Adding to the fact the clan wasn't in the best physical condition, and it wasn't great odds. The fact was without Fieldclan's help, there was no way Gustclan would beat the raiders combined force.

Snowpaw couldn't understand what Gorseclan and the rouges were after… Gustclan had nothing left.

"They're moving." Heronlegs voice brought her out of her thoughts. Indeed, the two groups of cats were off; vanishing into the trees. Poor Gustclan didn't know what was about to hit them… "Let's follow; quickly." The deputy said urgently, and the Fieldclan patrol set off as one. Snowpaw strode with determination and purpose; she'd faced danger for Gustclan before, and she'd do it again to help them, but she couldn't shake this bad feeling she had…

Heronlegs glanced back at her as they moved. "Snowpaw. Do you remember where they'd set up the queen's den?"

"Yes…?"

"I want you to go there and protect the entrance. Don't let any of those brutes in, you understand me?"

"Yes Heronlegs!"

"Good." She then started giving similar instructions to the others, though for some cats it was simply "attack any of those fleabitten mongrels that you can". Ferretpaw was given such an instruction. Heronlegs likely knew better than to give him something specific to take care of. He probably wouldn't do it anyway.

The shrieks from the Great Hollow were the sign that it had begun. Heronlegs now broke into a run, long legs covering ground in easy bounds. She let out a bellowing yowl as she broke through the undergrowth and into the Hollow; announcing the patrol's presence with the rest of the Fieldclan cats thundering in behind her.

It was already a writhing mass of chaos; fighting cats everywhere… It looked like most, if not all, of the Gustclan cats had been here at their temporary camp when the raiders struck. It was a fortunate thing. A patrol and cats hunting being out would have spelled disaster.

Doing as she was told, Snowpaw ran into the fray, making a beeline for the queen's den on the other side of the hollow. She saw Finchstar dancing around Icestar near the Great Oak, spitting venom at him the likes of which she couldn't quite believe coming out the gentle leader's mouth. She sounded more like Swallowstar! Heronlegs flew past her and slammed into Sorrelfur with force that sent the other deputy she-cat tumbling away from the Gustclan warrior she had been teaming up on with a rouge.

It was hard to keep track of everyone as she ran. Ferretpaw laughed as he slashed a young rouge that probably wasn't much older than him across the face. Cloudblaze was running for the medicine cat den as instructed. Waspsting and Batear pulled a rouge off a shrieking elder he was dragging out of their den by a back leg. She couldn't spot Possumtail, but his nervousness meant it would be hard for him to be caught off guard…

There was a cat in front of the queen's den, looking in. It was the tortoiseshell from Gorseclan. A queen, her belly round, was in the entrance way, lashing out with claws to keep the other she-cat at bay. "Get out of the way, don't make me hurt you…" The tortoiseshell hissed as Snowpaw drew near. She could hear kits wailing inside the den.

"I'd rather die than let you get these kits!" The silver smoke and white queen snarled, not budging an inch. Her next swipe just missed the younger cat's nose, causing her to spit in fury.

The Gorseclan cat was about to lash out when Snowpaw charged into her from the side, taking advantage of her large size and extra weight to knock the smaller she-cat flat.

"Well well well…." The tortoiseshell almost purred as she took in the attacker now pinning her down flat on her back. Her blue eyes were hard chips of ice, not matching her sweet voice. "Look what we have here; the Fieldclan _kittypet_!" She kicked fiercely at Snowpaw's belly, forcing her back. "Come to play warrior hero, have we?" The taunt was punctuated by a cold laugh as she stood up again. "You're wasting your time. Gustclan will be no more after today, to everyone's betterment!"

Snowpaw had moved in front of the den. The smoke queen narrowed her eyes in the entrance but didn't protest. "I've been ordered not to let anyone into this den, so that's exactly what I'm going to do."

"Cute." The warrior snorted. "Well then, I'll give you a personal lesson in how a _real warrior_ fights, little snow-kitty…" She pounced; Snowpaw braced herself.

The two met in a heavy clash; claws and teeth bared.

Between Snowpaw's efforts (though she was no match in combat skill with the tortoiseshell) and the three queens gathering up to block the entrance, the Gorseclan attacker was eventually forced to back off. She couldn't get inside the den, no matter how hard she tried. She vanished into the throng of fighting cats.

"She's going to come back with more, you know." The smoke queen commented darkly. Snowpaw nodded, giving her bleeding foreleg from a deep bite a lick. The tortoiseshell had been determined to take the two kits away. She wasn't going to just give up. Maybe intending to steal them for Gorseclan, or to use them as hostages. Either way, they couldn't let it happen.

"What do we do?" Goldwind; the she-cat that Snowpaw had helped save during the fire moons ago asked nervously. Her belly wasn't as big as the darker queen's, but she was still quite far along. This stress couldn't be good for either of them.

"I'll die before I let any more of these monsters hurt my kits." The nursing queen in the back of the den hissed. She had already lost two of her litter to the rouges, as Snowpaw understood it.

Snowpaw looked back out into the clearing. It was hard to follow what was happening and who was who. Her eyes tracked the distinctive chocolate tortoiseshell and white pelt of the Gorseclan she-cat through the chaos.

She was coming back this way, and this time with two rouges in tow.


	10. Chapter 8

**AN: Quick reminder that this story has it's own tumblr "kiwibattlecats" now! All new art as well as interesting tidbits about things like clan lifestyles will be posted there from now on! I also welcome all questions :)**

"You told him."

Sparrowcrest was berating her, almost word for word as she had imagined. Sigh.

"You _told_ him… What, Starclan guide me, did I say about not doing or saying anything _stupid_?" The chocolate she-cat was padded restlessly back and forth in front of the tabby. The two had gone hunting together, and so they were far enough away from other cats that Sparrowcrest could now raise her voice. "What possessed you to do that?"

"I don't know, it just came out! Come on Sparrowcrest, it's not that big of a deal…" Keasong's attempt at a defense was weak and she knew it.

"While grooming him in front of the medicine cats no less! Sheepfur's a _gossip_! The whole clan will know by tomorrow!"

"I'm _supposed_ to look after him; Flamestar told me to! And I said, " _used to_ "! It was just a dumb apprentices' admiration; nobody will care even if they do hear about it!"

"Oh yes, because you totally meant that "used to", right? I'm sure everyone in that den saw right through it!" Sparrowcrest spat, looking like she was near hysterics. "I don't think you realize just how _poorly_ this could go for you Keasong! What if they kick you out; make you go with him when he leaves or-"

"Sparrowcrest!" Keasong tapped the other she-cat in the side with a paw, breaking her off. "Relax. You're overreacting; they wouldn't kick me out…"

Sparrowcrest looked her in the eyes for a moment, then sighed, relaxing her tense body. The fur that had been bristling along her hackles softened. "I just don't want to see you get in trouble, or hurt, okay?" She bunted her head softly against Keasong's, leaving it resting there for a second before pulling back and watching her with a more humorous scolding gaze. She was making the effort to try and relax about it, and Keasong could appreciate that. "I get you've got a thing for broody handsome toms, but why does it have to be _that one_? We've got toms that fill that bill! What about Shadestorm?"

"Eeww he's like twice our age. Besides, he's dense as a rock." Keasong protested, crinkling her nose then purring a laugh.

"Blackpaw then! He and Frostpaw will be warriors soon; they were only a few moons behind us!" Sparrowcrest declared, her long tail waving back and forth.

"Please don't start playing matchmaker for me. Or like, anyone ever."

"What, you want she-cat's instead?" Sparrowcrest teased, prodding her friend's cheek. "Nothing wrong with that you know!" Keasong battered her back playfully, then took off running. It all turned into a good chasing game. It had been forgotten they were supposed to be _hunting_. After they were done, resting in the shade and then remembered, the two split up to frantically try and gather some prey.

In the end, they got enough that they at least wouldn't get an earful from Earthshatter.

Back at the camp by the afternoon, the pair settled down to share tongues and eat. Lionmane joined them, and so any talk of Rowanfall was off limits. Keasong's brother was fuming the red tom was in camp, and so it was a touchy subject.

Eventually, Keasong rose. "I better go take something to Rowanfall." Lionmane made a displeased gagging noise, but she ignored him. Sparrowcrest also made a face, so she narrowed her flecked eyes. "It's _my job_. I'll be right back, okay?" She padded away to the pair muttering. Geez these two would age her prematurely, she swore…

Poking her head in the medicine cat's den with a finch in tow, she spied Rowanfall curled up in his nest. At first, she thought he was asleep, but then she saw his deep green eyes shimmering in the sunset light streaking in from the entryway. "I brought you something to eat."

He blinked slowly as he lifted his head. "Thank you." Wow, a whole "thank you" instead of a clipped "thanks". That was an improvement. He still looked a little awkward after this morning as she placed the greenfinch down at his feet, not meeting her eye. His coat was much improved, but still needed more grooming.

"I'll bring you something else in the morning, and then I'll tidy up the rest of your pelt, okay? I think Flamestar might come see you again too." She turned to leave. He was probably going to be uncomfortable around her now… _stupid_.

"Wait, Keasong. Can I ask you something?" His question was a surprise; she turned back, ears angled forward in a way that told him to go ahead. The tip of Rowanfall's bushy tail was twitching. Was it nervousness or something else? He opened his mouth to speak…

A screeching yowl outside had him snap his jaw shut and whip his head around. Keasong turned back too, startled. "What the-?" She glanced back at Rowanfall. "I'll be right back." She needed to see what was going on. The red tom nodded, now sitting at attention. He likely was curious as well.

Outside the den, the Fernclan cats that had been lying about sharing tongues were all standing around in a cluster. Scent told her they were on edge. What were they all gathered around? Shoving her way into the pressed in bodies, she finally caught sight of what it was.

A cat was standing there, panting heavily with fur on end like they'd gotten one hell of a fright. She vaguely recognized the cat as one from Fieldclan. The long whiskers were quite distinctive on the tabby. "Where's Flamestar?" The cat asked, catching her breath. Keasong noticed Rowanfall had staggered up and out of the medicine cat den to see what was happening. He watched from the entrance with a dark expression.

"Here." Flamestar's commanding voice called. The ginger tom pushed through the crowd, his expression concerned. His pelt seemed to glow under the dusk light. Earthshatter stalked at his side, looking quite the threatening body guard. The bigger tom was cautious of a foreign cat's sudden appearance. "What brings you here Hedgewhisker?"

"Murkstar sent me to tell you…there were rouges… Gorseclan..." Hedgewhisker huffed between deep breaths. She must have run the whole way here from Fieldclan; no short distance.

Keasong's mouth fell open at her next words. "Gustclan is no more."


	11. Chapter 9

**AN: Oh damn is it time for the shrug emoji again already?**

Nobody was quite sure how it had happened, but suddenly Icestar had let out a bellowing yowl; the rogue leader shrieked, and the fighting paused.

Snowpaw had been hunched in the queen's den entrance; physically packed in up against Goldwind and Darkstreak to stop the three enemies menacing them from getting inside. They were swatted and bitten on their ears and faces and forequarters, and they simply refused to budge. They couldn't possibly fight these three back, and so it was all they could do. It seemed like the rogues and the Gorseclan she-cat were reluctant to hurt the queens much, and they used it to their advantage.

But when Icestar yowled, the three paused, looking back over their shoulders. One of the rogues; a skinny grey, actually laughed. Snowpaw, blinking through blood running down her face, spotted what they were looking at.

Icestar had Finchstar under his paws. The last time Snowpaw had seen them, Finchstar had been holding her own, but now Icestar had her in his grasp, and there looked like there was no escape. He was easily twice the small she-cat's size, when you took into account her long coat. His claws dug into her throat, and blood flowed freely. The young leader was making a horrible gagging noise, twitching under the much larger cat's grip. Horrified, Snowpaw realized she was dying before their eyes.

"Now that's quite enough, I think!" Icestar yelled, making sure his voice reached every cat in the hollow. The Gustclan cats had totally frozen; horrified.

"Let her go!" A black and white tom with slightly curly fur screeched, his voice straining with fear, anger, and sorrow. Drakewing; Snowpaw remembered the warrior's name. He was Finchstar's brother…

"Oh, I will… on one condition." Icestar replied smoothly. Beneath him, Finchstar had stopped moving. The light went from her terrified eyes. She had died. Icestar removed his claws from her throat. "Gustclan will surrender, as will the Fieldclan cats fighting with them."

"Get mauled by a dog, you pompous, murdering, arrogant piece of twoleg dirt!" Tigertail, the Gustclan deputy snarled. He was also not looking good. The big cream and white tabby tom from Gorseclan was pinning him down on his back. He had a huge, horrible wound there. Tigertail's back legs were ravaged and limp in the dirt.

"Charming as ever, Tigertail." Icestar hissed back to the dark ginger with a curled lip. Finchstar started to stir again. The wound on her neck was miraculously healing itself. Snowpaw wouldn't have believed it if she wasn't seeing it. The Gustclan leader had lost a life, but Starclan was bringing her back…

"No…" Icestar continued, glancing down at Finchstar. He unsheathed his claws again, just pricking the healing skin. "No, you will do as _I say_ … Or I will be quite happy to kill your leader. I'll kill her over and over again... As many times as it takes till she _doesn't get back up_."

"You wouldn't…" This time, it was Heronlegs who spoke. Her horrified voice was easy to pick out for Snowpaw, and the sound allowed her to find her tall blue form. She was still half-crouched in front of Sorrelfur of Gorseclan. Both she-cats had various injuries. They'd been fighting hard.

"I will." The gleam in Icestar's orange eyes and the serious tone of his voice showed his conviction. "I'll do what I must, even such a _vile act_ , to ensure our future!" He called it a vile act, and yet he looked like he was enjoying this. He took in all the cats before him. "As of today, Gustclan will disband. The cats will either join Gorseclan or _perish_. If that's in the wilds later or now by my allies' claws…"

"This is madness!" Awareness had returned to Finchstar; she struggled under Icestar's grip. "You'd destroy a whole clan, and for _what_?"

"Destroy?! No, I'm _saving_ your pathetic clan, Finchstar. Gustclan is a waste. It never should have been! A mistake of our founding ancestors... They'll live on under _my_ protection…" Icestar boomed. He dug his claws into her throat again, and the black and white she-cat's protest choked away. Another life gone… Snowpaw knew about the other she'd lost in the fire. The Gustclan leader was now down to six… The apprentice couldn't comprehend what she was seeing... This had to be a nightmare! Goldwind was wailing beside her. Darkstreak snarling; furious. In the back of the den, the other queen and her kits whimpered; the mother wrapping her little ones up against her.

Icestar looked like he was growing impatient. He looked to the cats under his command. "Fine; we'll do this the hard way… who knew Gustclan cats could be so stubborn…?" He lifted his chin high. It was stained with Finchstar's blood, just like his front paws that were now crimson and dripping with it. "Take custody of the queens and kits. Kill any warrior that gets in your way; the rest will come home with us…"

The large tabby that was the rogue leader nodded to his cats, then looked to Icestar. "And the elders? Useless mouths to feed, are they not?"

"They've completed their service… Let them meet their ancestors in Starclan."

"Understood." Like a wave, the rogues and the Gorseclan party moved as one. A powerful, menacing force that seemed to make this oppressive feeling in the air itself. Snowpaw watched one Gustclan warrior drop to the ground in front of them; trembling with fear. He bowed his head. He had given up. They simply walked by him.

The cat pinning down the badly injured Tigertail moved like a striking bird of prey, biting deep into the back of the Gustclan deputy's neck; to his spine. He flailed, then lay still. Dead. His jaws were still clenched into his last defiant snarl. His wounds had been so bad he probably wouldn't have survived anyway. It could almost be called a merciful death. Snowpaw was sure Icestar would call it such…

"As for you and yours, Heronlegs." Icestar now addressed the Fieldclan deputy directly, his voice a silky calm despite the bloodshed around him that he'd caused. A Gustclan warrior was flipped over and torn into nearby by two rogues. He ignored the gruesome scene. "You will take your patrol and go home. This is none of your business."

"I think the actions of a tyrant who would slaughter a clan into nothingness and conspire with rogues is every cat's business." Heronlegs spat back, her tail lashing. Sorrelfur blocked her from moving towards the white tom.

"Don't you call me a tyrant! I'm a _savior_! Starclan is guiding me! This is their will!" Icestar roared back, digging his claws deeper into Finchstar who was only just coming back around. She jerked and lay still. Now it was five… "I will take every clan into my protection from the doom that is coming, and with the greatest clan ever seen I will fight it and _win_!" Spittle flew from the tom's mouth, a wild look in his eyes that was tinged with both fury and fear. He looked truly mad and monstrous; like something out of a story told to frighten young kits.

"The only destruction I see is _you_." Heronlegs lashed out both verbally and physically; striking Sorrelfur heavily across the face. The other she-cat recoiled, and Heronlegs used the chance to dance around her and run by. She was making a beeline straight for Icestar. Snowpaw wanted to call out, but she found herself mute. The lithe she-cat barreled into the bulky leader, driving him off Finchstar's body.

In her peripheral vision, Snowpaw noticed that cats were coming for the queen's den again.


	12. Chapter 10

**AN: Extra length chapter today!**

She couldn't fight them off.

They were more experienced. Older. Stronger. And willing to do what it took to follow Icestar's order.

Snowpaw tried to follow her mentors will. She really, really tried. But in the end, it wasn't enough.

The apprentice was tossed aside like a bit of fresh-kill. A brutish rogue had seized her and dragged her out the entrance with force she couldn't fight against even with her bulk. The ginger, his fangs peeking out from under his lips, held her down while the others pulled out the queens. Goldwind didn't fight back. She couldn't; her leg was permanently damaged from the fire. Darkstreak tried to fight back, but she was so close to kitting that she just couldn't do much. Two cats; a tabby rogue and the tortoiseshell she-cat from Gorseclan, marched her away. With easy access to her kits; the two wee things mewing from the jaws of the thin grey rogue, Blackhorse followed obediently.

"What do I do with this one?" The ginger grunted, leering down at Snowpaw. He didn't look as enthusiastic about all this as his fellows. She squirmed under his grip. She was hurt and weakening fast, and she couldn't see what was happening around her anymore; line of sight blocked by the big tom's bulk. What had happened to Heronlegs? Finchstar? Her clanmates? Starclan, were they going to _kill her_? Tear her throat like Icestar had done to Finchstar? Crunch into her spine like they'd done to Tigertail? Her heart hammered in her chest. All she could hear was terrible screeches and growls. Some cats were still fighting back.

"It's a kittypet, right Dappledshade?" The tortoiseshell nodded, looking back to fix Snowpaw with one icy eye. "Just kill it then, Fang." The grey spat to the other rogue around a mouthful of kitten, sounding bored. He kept walking away, as did the others. It left Snowpaw and "Fang" alone.

The ginger eyed her as his fellows walked off. "You're so young…" He muttered as he turned back to Snowpaw and unsheathed his claws. "It's a shame." Fang looked like he was steeling himself to strike.

"You don't have to kill me you know." Snowpaw mewed desperately. She didn't want to die. She didn't know if Starclan could hear her or if they'd even listen to a cat of kittypet blood, but she prayed to them anyway. "Why do you have to do what they say?"

"Graves is Sting's second. I have to listen to him or they'll kill me or kick me out." Snowpaw's mind raced as the tom gave his sullen reply. It really didn't sound like he wanted to do this. He was staring at her face; stained with blood from a bad scratch and a damaged ear, blue eyes wide in fear. "Your eyes are just like Summer's…" The name was tinged with a deep grief.

Snowpaw had no idea who Summer was, but she would roll with this. He didn't want to do this. She just had to convince him he didn't have to. "Pretend." She replied in an urgent hushed tone, coming up with the idea on the fly. She was shaking. " _Pretend_ to kill me; say you did. How will they know?" He hesitated, so she continued. "Just… knock me out. Why would they bother to check I'm actually dead if I'm not moving?"

"I let them get away with killing her you know…" Fang muttered, his eyes darting as he seemed to be mulling over what she said. He looked back at something. "All for _him_. All for the greater good of his plan. They _had_ to do it, they said." Snowpaw wondered if he meant his own leader, or Icestar?

Fang grit his teeth together. "We took the kits, everything had gone according to plan, and then suddenly she wasn't there with me…" Snowpaw didn't know what this cat was talking about, but she didn't interrupt. His tail lashed as he spoke, a fury blazing in his eyes. "They'd led her away and killed her, while I wasn't looking… All to make the _act look more convincing!_ I was supposed to protect her! I _should've_...!" He shook his great head. "You know what…" His voice dropped to a whisper, expression setting. "I won't give them what they want this time."

Snowpaw was about to thank the rouge for her life when he lifted his great paw and struck her; knocking her out cold without warning. The last thing she heard before blackness took her was Heronlegs crying out her name.

…

It was also the first as she was roused from unconsciousness. Heronlegs mewed to her urgently, shaking her slightly. Groggy, Snowpaw blinked several times rapidly, trying to get the fog out of her head as she lifted it slightly. She was confused. What happened?

"Easy." Heronlegs said softly, a steady paw used to stop the apprentice from trying to jump up in a panic. "You took a nasty hit there, and you have other wounds…" A clear relief was in Heronlegs' blue eyes. "I thought you were dead at first, you know… I-" She gave her apprentice a quick lick. "I'm glad you're okay Snowpaw."

"What-" The word was slightly slurred, so Snowpaw tried again. "What's going on?" They were surrounded by undergrowth. Not the clearing of the gathering hollow. She couldn't tell where they were exactly…

"Icestar and his pet rogues _won_." Waspsting spat bitterly. Looking towards her voice Snowpaw saw the cat sitting a short distance away with Possumtail. Both had a few minor injuries but looked better than Heronlegs or Snowpaw herself. While Waspsting appeared angry and worn, Possumtail was looking at the ground. Shock? Every dark hair was standing on end still, and he was shaking.

"I think Icestar only left us alive so we could take his message to Murkstar…" Heronlegs muttered. The deputy sighed. She looked so stressed.

"Where are we?" Snowpaw looked around, ignoring the thumping in her head.

"Just on the outer rim of the hollow… I didn't want to move you far, and we need more paws here… I sent Batear back to camp for help." Heronlegs answered, glancing over her shoulder like she was expecting the tom back any moment.

"Where's Cloudblaze and Ferretpaw?" She had just noticed that the other apprentice wasn't with them. Possumtail flinched at the sound of his apprentice's name. Her stomach dropped. "They're not…?" She didn't like Ferretpaw by any stretch, but he was still a clanmate like Cloudblaze.

"The rogue leader; Sting I think they called him. He killed Cloudblaze while he was trying to protect the medicine cats. As for Ferretpaw… He's not dead." Heronlegs answered. "He… he went with them." The regret and pain was clear on the she-cat's elegant face. "I couldn't tell you why. He didn't say anything…"

"No way…" Ferretpaw had always been a nasty, arrogant piece of work, but to think he'd actually abandon his own clan like this…

"The little _worm_! The filthy _traitor_ , why if I ever-!" Waspsting started, but a sharp look from Heronlegs silenced her as she went glancing to Possumtail, who's ears were flat against his head. His jaw was clenched tight to the point it had to be painful. He had to be blaming himself.

"They took off with the Gustclan queens and any of the other cats that surrendered…" Heronlegs changed the subject, but her voice was hollow and lacking her usual business-like briskness. "Icestar had his rogues kill the rest, though I saw a couple that managed to run away… Finchstar escaped when I was fighting him. Hopefully the other cats that ran find her… We'll have to see to the bodies when the others get here." She shook her head, a few droplets of blood falling from a wound on her cheek. "I still can't believe it. They just… destroyed a whole clan. Just like that. We couldn't help them."

"They have to be stopped, or it will happen to all of us." Possumtail said solemnly, his voice very quiet and filled with fear. Snowpaw was horrified and found herself speechless. It didn't feel like any of this could be real. She had been taught the histories of the clans. Nothing like this had ever happened before!

A breeze picked up, toying at the canopy above their heads. It was startlingly quiet now, aside from the sound of the leaves rustling and the shriek of a starling alarm calling in the distance. The cats sat in grim silence.

Gustclan was gone. Just like that.

 **...**

It wasn't long after the small patrol (including the medicine cat Deerspot) returned with Batear, and the Fieldclan cats moved back into the gathering hollow to take stock of the loss, that a surprise arrival turned up. Murkstar arrived with Needleclaw and Springpaw in tow. They all looked tired, like they'd run here from Starfalls. Which, as it turned out, they had.

"I arrived only for Moonfall to tell me that it wasn't where I needed to be. I don't know how she knows things like this, but I came as fast as I could." The leader explained, looking around with sorrow on his face. "Not fast enough."

Needleclaw was doing his best to comfort Springpaw. The apprentice was young, and now his first experience of death was a gruesome sight indeed. Blood splattered across the grounds where the clans were supposed to come in truce, and several bodies were scattered about.

"You didn't pass any Gustclan cats on the way?" Heronlegs asked her leader. "Finchstar and a couple of others got away. The rest were captured or…" She roved her eyes over the scene around them.

"No, but I imagine they ran in the direction of their territory. It would have felt safest for them…" Murkstar replied. "I'll send cats to Marshclan and Fernclan now. They need to know about this immediately. We can't wait a quarter moon for the next gathering…"

The gathered Fieldclan cats then got to work. Murkstar sent Hedgewhisker to Fernclan and Bushtail to Marshclan to give them the news of what had happened.

Snowpaw was one of the cats told not to help in the burial of the Gustclan dead. Burying them outright was not the method would be their preference from their unique tradition, but nobody knew how their own ritual was done or where the special site was in Gustclan territory, and this was better than leaving the cats where they lay.

Snowpaw was not in any condition to help after the fight, and so Deerspot fussed over her instead, with what little supplies she had brought with her between her and the others in the patrol. As she did so, Snowpaw watched. Heronlegs was beside her. Her mentor said nothing, but they had wrapped their tails together in a solidarity of reassurance.

Two elders had been massacred; including the oldest cat in all the clans. He'd been totally defenseless; frail and robbed of his senses due to his age. A couple of rogues had almost pulled him apart. The other had managed to fight back a little by the looks. Only one Gustclan elder had escaped; Rattail. Snowpaw remembered Finchstar mentioning him in the aftermath of the fire, and at the time had thought maybe he was her father. Hopefully the two found each other out there.

The spot where Icestar had ripped three lives from the Gustclan leader and likely would have taken them all without Heronlegs was easy to see with the large pool of drying blood staining the earth. It was almost poetically suitable in its location; right in front of the massive old oak where the leaders sat at gatherings. A few white clumps of short fur were testimony to the fact that Heronlegs and Finchstar had managed to get a few hits of their own in at least.

Not far from it, by the area being used as a temporary medicine cat den by Gustclan, was where Cloudblaze had been laying. His clanmates had already begun bearing him home to be buried in his own territory. She hadn't even seen the brown and white warrior's body but seeing the bloodstain and bits of his fur where he'd fallen was bad enough.

She didn't know the all the names of the three Gustclan warriors that had been lost along with the elders and the deputy Tigertail, but she wanted to out of respect. Heronlegs quietly supplied them when she asked, as each cat was carried away to be buried inside their border.

Bramblefur; the young warrior just given his name. He'd been the apprentice that had run to their patrol and led them to camp during the fire.

Windrunner. Heronlegs told her he was known as the best rabbit hunter in all the clans.

Skyblaze. He'd been Goldwind's mate. Now he was dead and his mate; not far from kitting, was captured. Did she even know he was gone?

Finchstar had lost three lives, but ultimately survived and got away thanks to Heronlegs intervening. Snowpaw wondered what she'd do now. Along with the elder Rattail, Drakewing; Finchstar's brother, and Rockfang the medicine cat apprentice had gotten away. Only four free cats of Gustclan remained… All three queens, two kits, the medicine cat Fallheart and the warriors Larkcry, Racingbreeze and Rabbitpelt had been taken away. And Ferretpaw, who had chosen to abandon his clan and go with them…

It made for a grim list.

Only one of the rogues was dead; the only enemy cat to fall in the fight. They'd simply been so much stronger than the weakened Gustclan, and the Fieldclan patrol could only make so much difference. The dark spotted tabby tom would have no respectful burial. Waspsting and Nightcloud simply dragged the body away from the gathering area and left it to rot or be eaten by scavengers. Whatever came first. The rouge earned no honor in death.

The task done, the gathering area looked stark and empty. Rain would eventually wash the bloodstains away, and wind would take the scraps of fur. It would soon look like nothing had ever happened in the peaceful hollow. And yet, Snowpaw could feel in the air something had fundamentally changed. It was a dark feeling that hung heavy over the Fieldclan cats present to pick up the pieces.

Not to mention…

"Murkstar. There was one more thing…" Heronlegs said in a hushed voice to her leader as the group wandered slowly home. "Icestar had a message for you."

Murkstar, usually so relaxed and jolly, now looked like he'd aged many moons in one day. He turned his head to his deputy. "What was it?" The question had foreboding in its tone. The dark tabby probably already knew what was coming.

"He told me to tell you that "Fieldclan's next". He gave us an ultimatum to join him under Gorseclan's name or face the same as Gustclan by the next gathering."

"I see." Murkstar's reply was steady. He glanced back at the cats of his clan who were listening nervously as they walked; tired and emotionally drained. The fear was palpable.

"What are you going to do?" Heronlegs asked the question everyone wanted to.

"You already know my answer."


	13. Chapter 11

**AN: Apologies for the delay! I have a new puppy keeping me on my toes and it's the busy silly season! Updates may continue to be slow for a little while...**

 **I hope all my readers have a merry holiday period, no matter what you celebrate :)**

 **And remember questions are always welcome on my tumblr!**

In the days after Hedgewhisker of Fieldclan brought the news of Gustclan's destruction, Keasong noticed Rowanfall getting progressively more agitated and restless.

She could understand why. He had to be bothered by what Icestar had done. That he was stuck in Fernclan's medicine cat den unable to do anything about it. She tried to reassure him; to convince him that he wouldn't have been able to do anything on his own anyway, and it was dangerous for him to think otherwise, but Keasong was fairly sure it fell on deaf ears. She was worried about what he was going to do next… Icestar had a huge number of cats under his command now. What did Rowanfall think he could do alone? Keasong had been taught that a desire for revenge was a dangerous thing by her mentor, and she was certain that was what burned in Rowanfall's heart. She didn't know how to help him.

Flamestar had spoken to him again at some point, though this time she hadn't listened in. Rowanfall was well enough to walk short distances, so Flamestar had him come to his den with Earthshatter instead. Keasong wondered what they'd talked about. The situation with Icestar, obviously… but it was frustrating not knowing the exact details. Whatever they'd discussed, it had certainly done nothing to improve Rowanfall's mood.

Icestar's desire for control over the clans wasn't the only problem facing Fernclan either. The twolegs were pressing their removal of some forest plants further and further into their territory. It wouldn't be long before they reached camp, and _that_ was worrying. If they wanted to pull out a bunch of what seemed to the cats to be randomly selected undergrowth plants in the northern end, then more power to their weird behavior, but if they came across camp… Marshclan were getting bold with their border marks at the river too…

Keasong was fairly certain someone was going to have a heart attack from stress at this rate.

Certainly, the head of her patrol today; Beetlepelt, was on edge was they moved cautiously through their territory towards the river. The pretty, if unusually marked senior warrior was looking this way and that, ears twitching at every sound. Patrols were generally pretty relaxed affairs in Fernclan, but now they had issues on all sides… Gorseclan to the south, Marshclan to the west and twolegs crashing about to the north.

"We're nearly to the river. Keep your ears on a swivel." Beetlepelt's melodious voice, currently a soft whisper, brought Keasong out of her thoughts. Beside her, Wrenfeather, Keasong's old mentor, dropped to a creeping crouch. Her littermate Grasstail; who was nearly identical to the angular-featured, large eared she-cat, hissed something under his breath to his apprentice Frostpaw. The white tom who outsized his mentor in bulk by a large margin was serious-faced, but then he always was. Silverheart brought up the rear. Keasong heard him control his soft steps through the leaf litter as they moved forward.

The day was cool. It had been almost frosty this morning, and then cloud cover had rolled over the sun, keeping the air temperature crisp. Keasong was grateful her thicker leafbare coat was growing in ready for the bitter season ahead. It was only going to keep getting colder.

Ahead at the front of the patrol, Beetlepelt poked her head through the ferns that lined the riverbank. Almost immediately she pulled it back. Keasong noticed her hackles raising. "Marshclan are on our side of the border again." She growled quietly. Her blue eyes narrowed, stark against her dark face. "I guess we're doing this." She looked over the rest of the patrol. Keasong suppressed a sigh. She really wasn't in the mood for a border scrap, but it was her duty to defend the borders… She crouched, ready to pounce.

Beetlepelt's ears lay flat. Her tail flicked; the signal. The patrol surged out of the ferns and down the riverbank as one.

A yowl from the Marshclan cats broke the silence. They quickly scrambled to pack up; it looked like they'd been hunting for fish in the flowing river. They were on the other side of the water. Right now, both banks were Fernclan territory, after the clan won them earlier when the river was still shallow.

The two sides lined up on each side of the river. Fur frizzed, claws shone in the light and growls rumbled through the air. Nobody moved, neither side seeming to want to cross the water to make the first strike. "Bold of you to be back in our territory so soon after last time." Beetlepelt hissed to the Marshclan cats.

" _Our_ territory you mean." A little white tom growled back. "The river isn't yours."

"The border markers say otherwise. You lost the river fair and square." Grasstail shot back. Frostpaw was lashing his tail next to him.

"Why do you Fernclan cats even want the river?!" The noisy Marshclan apprentice Lightningpaw yowled back, bold as ever. Her forequarters were dripping wet; she must have been fishing. "You don't swim! You don't fish! You-" She was cut off by the white tom as he flicked his tail at her.

"We're taking it back." He said simply.

"I don't think so." Beetlepelt replied, arching her spine in an aggressive gesture. The tension could be struck with a claw.

"Do we really have time for this?" Keasong found herself wondering, not aware she had muttered it aloud under her breath rather than kept it in her head.

"What was that Keasong?" Beetlepelt asked sharply. Keasong gulped, realizing the others had heard her in the tense silence.

"Uh." She hesitated only a moment before she decided to double down. This _was_ stupid! And she was going to say so! She was a warrior now; she could offer her opinion freely! "I don't think we should be fighting!" A fawn Marshclan tom laughed.

"Oh, you want to give up a section of our territory then?" Wrenfeather rounded on her. Keasong flattened her ears nervously, not wanting to upset Wrenfeather after moons of learning not to as an apprentice, but she didn't give ground.

"We shouldn't be wasting time and blood on a stupid border skirmish!" She turned to the Marshclan cats, who looked more confused than anything. "We have bigger problems! You all know too right?"

"Icestar…" The small white tom muttered. He flicked his gaze over the rest of his group. They were even in number with the Fernclan patrol. It meant any fight wouldn't be a quash.

"She has a point." Frostpaw added quietly, surprising Keasong. She didn't expect him to agree with her. "It seems rather pointless fighting over a strip of river when we have a clan and rouges on a rampage to worry about."

"Why should we care what happens to Gustclan?" The rude fawn tom spoke up again, irritated. He'd obviously wanted to fight.

"Because this isn't just about Gustclan! You're an idiot if you think Icestar and his rouges are just going to stop there!" Lightningpaw had joined the fray again, though she was on the sensible side for once. With a fellow Marshclan cat arguing against him, the tom bit his tongue.

"Not to mention there's always been five of us… destroying Gustclan like that is wrong. What must Starclan think?" Keasong added sadly.

The white tom leading the Marshclan group sighed. "Alright… we'll let this matter of the border go. For now. I can't promise Swallowstar's future actions-"

"Yeah 'cause he's gone completely nuts…" Grasstail muttered under his breath, just soft enough for Keasong to hear. Wrenfeather nodded her head decisively next to him.

"-but we will not fight today." He inclined his head, just a little, then turned to his companions. "Let's go."

As the Marshclan cats vanished over the bank and into their territory, Beetlepelt let out a breath and almost seemed to deflate as the tension did. "Well I suppose I can say that went better than expected." She then turned her eyes to Keasong, who flinched as they narrowed. "You might have avoided a fight, and what you said made sense, but don't undermine the leader of your patrol again, Keasong…"

She padded off as Keasong bowed her head in submission. "Come on you lot. We need to finish our patrol and report back."

The rest of the patrol followed her after exchanging glances. Frostpaw came up beside Keasong. "Hey, don't take what she said too hard Keasong. She's probably just annoyed she didn't realize it herself." The white tom offered lazily, his mismatched eyes holding something akin to amusement.


	14. Chapter 12

The patrol moved further north to check on what was happening with the twolegs. They were hoping they were gone, as there had been a couple of days now and then where they would vanish, but they were still there; slowly destroying more and more of the cover they used to hunt in the forest as they moved south.

The cats heard them long before they saw them. Twolegs were not quiet creatures. One was yowling in their strange language to another a some cat-lengths away. Keasong observed them curiously with the rest of the patrol, keeping hidden in a clump of ferns as safe distance off. She wondered what they were saying to each other… and what exactly they were doing other than dramatically inconvenience the local cats. They trampled about even more noisily than the pigs that passed through Fernclan's forest now and then.

A few times, they had some strange tool they used to slice through the thicker bushes and small trees. It made a horrific noise that could be heard even from camp. Keasong could see the thing, sitting on the ground next to a twoleg. It wasn't making any noise now, and its serrated teeth like the inside of goose's mouth didn't move. Looks like that thing didn't do anything unless a twoleg was using it.

Behind where the twolegs moved about, pulling out and cutting back plants, there was a large pile of their previous work. It was interesting to Keasong, that they weren't destroying all the plants. They left some bushes and ferns behind. It also appeared they were planting new ones in the areas they cleared. Weird. What made them choose what to keep and what to destroy? Why plant more after getting rid of many? What was the point of all this? She knew twolegs as odd creatures, but this really made no sense! She knew Flamestar intended to ask at the gathering if anyone else had seen them doing this in their own territories, but she wasn't sure if he would anymore after what happened…

"What's that thing?" Smudgepelt's mutter drew Keasong's attention. The dark-faced she-cat pointed with her nose to a twoleg putting something on a tree. It was small, rectangular and black in colour, with a little glowing red eye near the top. Some kind of wee monster? The twoleg had attached it to the tree somehow, and it sat on the trunk close to the ground. The twoleg stood back to admire it's work. Keasong lifted her head to get a better look, nosiness getting the better of her…

"Get down!" Grasstail's urgent hiss came too late. One of the twoleg's spotted Keasong's striped head poking out of the ferns to stare at them. It yowled loudly, pointing at her with one of it's spider-like paws. Her clanmates were already running before she even withdrew her head and turned.

They ran at top speed; knowing that a twoleg could never catch up to them. Keasong heard the tromping steps behind her for only a moment, before the twolegs gave up. Their noisy speech carried in the air; communicating with each other as the cats kept on running.

They didn't stop till they were half-way back to camp. Smudgepelt had slowly trotted to a halt. She looked behind them, then let out a sigh. "Okay, so let's not let them see us again…" She glared at Keasong, who had the decency to look appropriately embarrassed. Stupid! Inquisitiveness was one thing, but that was careless! Wrenfeather always said she needed to focus more when she was her mentor… She had been prone to "air-headedness" as Lionmane called it, since she was a kit. Keasong always called him rude when he said that. She just got lost in her thoughts or distracted easily! "We should go back to camp and report everything to Flamestar anyway."

Keasong took her walk of shame at the back of the patrol. Frostpaw commented that this time, she did indeed, mess up. She snorted out a laugh despite herself. She wasn't a cat capable of feeling too sorry for herself for long.

...

Entering camp, she let out a yawn. Keasong was looking forward to a rest before heading out later to hunt, but first she needed to see if Rowanfall needed anything. She'd brought him a sparrow earlier, so she doubted he'd be hungry again… Mostly she just wanted to check up on him. His behaviour since the news of Gustclan's loss had her worried.

The tabby she-cat got one last telling off by Wrenfeather and Beetlepelt before she was free to go. Honestly, she was not really paying much attention; distracted by Lichenkit hiding around a corner of the nursery only to pounce at and scare Ashkit. Wrenfeather probably noticed how everything they were saying was just going right through Keasong's ears as her flecked eyes kept flicking over to watch the kits and their antics. She really didn't have the best attention span. Particularly when it was a lecture…

Free to go, she trotted towards the medicine cat den… only to almost run into Sheepfur running out. Immediately Keasong picked up something was wrong. "Have you seen Rowanfall?" The white she-cat asked hurriedly.

"…No? I just got back from patrol." The worry increased as her answer had Sheepfur's bushy tail flick back and forth in a sign of stress. "He's gone?"

"He snuck away! I was working on his next mixture and then when I turned around he wasn't in his nest!" Sheepfur fretted. "I didn't think anything of the silence; he's not very chatty as it is… Oh this isn't good… I mean, it could be fine… oh but… He really needs further treatment before he goes running off…!"

"He can't have gone far…" Keasong started, trying not to panic. She had been worried he'd do something like this. She had an idea of what the red tom was intending to do and oh was it _not good_. His intentions concerned her far more than any setbacks in his recovering condition did.

"Has anyone seen Rowanfall?!" Sheepfur called out to the camp at large. Most cats present shook their heads. How had he slipped out with nobody seeing? Cats came and went and were busy but still!

"I saw 'im." Nighttail, the elder, grunted from her dozing spot next to the sleeping Firefang.

Keasong and Sheepfur rounded towards the elder's den looking at the aging she-cat for answers. Nighttail didn't seem to appreciate the urgency. She blinked lazily, her many old scars stretching as she flexed her stiff body. "He went out the side of camp; not that long ago." The black elder considered the pair for a moment. "Don't know why yer so worried. Problem solved in my opinion…"

"Nighttail." Flamestar's voice was calm and clear as ever, but with that authority that had the ornery elder fall silent (though she didn't look pleased about it). The leader was padding towards them with an urgent step. "Rowanfall left?" He asked the other two.

Keasong nodded, shifting her weight from paw to paw nervously. "I think he's going to Gorseclan. I think he's going to do something _really stupid_."

"He's seemed upset since Gustclan…" Flamestar agreed, ear twitching in thought. The look on his face indicated to Keasong that he understood what Rowanfall might intend. "It is his choice to leave, and as he was not our prisoner we have no right to stop him." Keasong's heart sunk, but the older tom kept talking. "However, it would be foolish for me to disregard his usefulness when it comes to what might lie before us."

What he knew about Icestar and Gorseclan? If it came down to a war (Starclan the thought brought dread to her heart!), then yeah, Keasong could see how having a cat that had grown up in the clan on their side would be very useful indeed. "Not to mention, I don't like the idea of him throwing himself pointlessly to his death in a moment of irrationality. He might not be my cat, but he is _my guest_. Allowing a guest to do something like that is just bad manners." Flamestar's whiskers twitched, showing a rare moment of humour. Sheepfur chuckled lowly.

"So…?" Keasong was hopeful. A light drizzle began to fall. It would make tracking him by scent harder, if it came to that.

" _So_ , you are the most likely to convince him to come back. He trusts you the most of all of us." Flamestar stood tall, now giving an order. "It's your job to look after that cat, remember Keasong? Go find him, and quickly! If he crosses the border, it will be too late. I don't want you going over it alone, understand me? There is value in bringing him back, but not if it costs us your life."


	15. Chapter 13

Keasong ran as fast as her legs could take her, making a beeline for the Gorseclan border. She didn't know Rowanfall went this way for certain, but if she was right about what he was going to try and do, then she couldn't see him going anywhere else. There wasn't really time to check for scent every few steps. If he passed over the border…

"Keasong!" Sparrowcrest's voice had her stop and turn. The sleek she-cat was speeding after her with Lionmane in tow. Keasong found herself conflicted about being happy not to be out her alone and annoyed they'd turned up and were likely going to give her a lecture.

"What are you two doing here?" She asked her friend and brother as they reached her, skidding to a halt. She shook her head as a large drop of water from the rain fell on her nose, dripping through the leaves above.

"Coming after you." Lionmane grunted. "What's this about you going after that tom after he left?"

"Flamestar asked me to bring him back." She replied quickly, already setting her face to a stubborn look.

"Why? He's an enemy."

"He's been helping Flamestar with information! I'd hardly call that behaviour of an enemy!"

"Could have been lying…"

"I really don't have time for this Lionmane! Rowanfall is going to go and try and deal with Icestar himself! He'll get killed… I need to stop him, so if all you are going to do is whine then please _go home_!" Keasong went to leave again, but Sparrowcrest blocked her.

"Let us come with you. I don't like that Rowanfall, but it's important to you, and I guess I don't want him to _die_ … Besides, neither Lionmane or I want you going near the Gorseclan border alone right now. I can't believe Flamestar let you go by yourself!"

While Keasong was glad that Sparrowcrest at least was willing to put her personal feelings aside and go with her, she also didn't like the latter part of her words. Flamestar obviously thought she was capable enough to do this alone, so why didn't her best friend or brother? She wanted to say something but couldn't bring herself to. Besides, time was of the essence.

She danced on her paws impatiently. "Fine, fine, but let's _hurry_! And no more complaining about him; we need to convince him to come back with us not chase him away!"

"I suppose I don't want him dead either. Means I can't get him back for this." The spotted tom flicked his nicked ear. Lionmane's nod was more reluctant than Sparrowcrest's, but he accepted all the same.

Keasong didn't waste another moment; her quick turn stirring up a few leaves as she sprinted off again, this time with the pawsteps of her friend and brother behind her; Sparrowcrest's light and fleet, Lionmanes heavy and thundering.

They were in sight of their border with Gorseclan when they finally caught up with Rowanfall. Keasong saw him first; red pelt stark against the undergrowth. He walked with his head low, steps a little shaky but determined. It was fortunate he wasn't completely healed yet, or he probably would have easily made it across the border before they caught up with him.

His ears pricked up as Keasong yowled his name. One green eye narrowed as he looked over his shoulder. "Why am I not surprised…" The tom muttered as the small party reached his side. "Don't even start." Rowanfall grunted as Keasong opened her mouth to speak. "Go home. This isn't your concern."

"Oh, you bet your red rump that it is!" She retorted strongly, moving to block Rowanfall's way to the border. Her tail was held high and confidently. He was going to listen to her! "You're _my_ responsibility, and I am not going to let you throw your life away!"

"I'm not-"

"Yes, you are! You think you can just go and take out Icestar! How exactly were you planning on doing that by yourself?"

Rowanfall's eyes darted to the ground then back up to Keasong defiantly. "I just need to wait, get him alone…"

Keasong hissed in frustration and jutted her head into Rowanfall's personal space. "And then what? You'll fight him when you aren't even fully healed? You'll kill him nine times in a row?" She didn't know how any cat could be mentally capable of such a thing. She didn't want to think Rowanfall was. "He's a _leader_ Rowanfall! And a bloody strong one at that!"

"I can beat him." Rowanfall growled, his eyes flashing, claws sliding out. "I messed up last time, but I won't repeat that mistake." His hatred for the Gorseclan leader was clear. Keasong could probably never hate anyone or anything like Rowanfall hated Icestar, but even she could see it.

"A cat guided by vengeance is blind." Sparrowcrest spoke up, quoting a famous saying from Fernstar that had been passed down through the generations. The context had been lost, but the words lingered on.

Sparrowcrest and Lionmane had just been standing back, a little awkwardly, but the chocolate-furred she-cat had moved forward. Rowanfall blinked, like he'd just realized they were there and was taken aback by their presence. "It's certainly not my place to tell you what to do, trouble-tom, but I'm free to tell you, that this little idea of yours? It's probably the most idiotic thing I've ever heard." She scoffed, tossing her elegant head. "Keasong keeps telling me how smart you are; are you even using that supposedly big brain of yours right now? You couldn't defeat him the last time you fought, by the sounds, what's changed except that you have a healing wound and he has even more allies around him? It doesn't sound like your odds are _improved_."

"You-" Rowanfall half-puffed up, lip curling, like he was some way to being offended, but there was some doubt in his green eyes now.

"You're angry. You're upset. You aren't thinking straight. We get it." Lionmane grunted, surprising even Keasong by adding to the conversation. She didn't think he'd say anything. He was looking the other way; his tail flicking with annoyance, but he was _helping_. "But if you really want to stop Icestar, this isn't the way to do it…. _Moron_."

"Do you want me to shred your other ear?" Rowanfall's spit seemed halfhearted. Lionmane laughed.

"Like you could get close right now. Besides, I'm not convinced that the mousebrain in front of me is the same cat that beat _me_ in a fight. I refuse to believe it in fact." Lionmane taunted. Normally Keasong would tell him to shut up, but it seemed to be helping Rowanfall realize he was acting irrationally. She knew if there was one thing the ex-Gorseclan cat hated, it was being called _stupid_.

"Rowanfall." Keasong started, more gently than her companions. He turned to look at her. "None of us want you to get killed. _I_ don't want you to get hurt, okay?" Her voice was plaintive, her gaze practically begging. Rowanfall looked conflicted. She wondered if he was thinking about what she had said before. He'd never spoken about it since… Behind Rowanfall, Sparrowcrest narrowed her eyes, and Lionemane's expression turned more sour, but she ignored them both. "Flamestar wants you to come back too. He wants you to be healed… _then_ you can decide what to do. We just want to help you."

"You Fernclan cats are _mental_ … Going this far for a cat not of your clan... You make _no sense_ …" He huffed; a great sigh that pushed his ribs out against his fur and shifted his shoulders. The fight seemed to be deflating out of him. "Fine. I can admit… I didn't really have a plan." He shook his head, untidy mane bouncing around it. "I just want to stop this. Stop _him_. If I had just- ...He has to _pay_ …!"

"He'll be stopped." Flamestar's regal voice broke over the scene, surprising everyone. The tom walked over, almost serenely, with Earthshatter at his side. "I wasn't content to just wait in camp, apparently." He explained.

"He was worried you were going to go over the border anyway." Earthshatter grunted, amused, beside his leader.

"Yes well." Flamestar fixed his deputy with a look, then continued. "Young Rowanfall I can assure you, that Icestar _will_ be stopped. Murkstar and I have been exchanging envoys. He has also brought Swallowstar into the fold; I was told just after Keasong left… You youngsters always seem to think you are the only ones actually doing anything, and never stop to consider what your elders are trying to accomplish behind the scenes. So impatient!" There was twinkle in the dark ginger tom's eye, the young warriors before him looking a little embarrassed. "It has been decided. We will unite our efforts to bring Icestar's plans to an end, and the tom himself to justice."

"The first time three clans have united against a common enemy in many generations…" Earthshatter added somberly. It was an impressive feat, though the circumstances were grim.

Keasong found hope swelling in her chest. Even with his Gustclan hostages, his rouges and his own warriors, Icestar couldn't beat three whole clans united against him!

"And if you'd like... You can be part of that." Flamestar dipped his head slightly to the younger red tom.

"What, as a Fernclan cat?" Keasong couldn't tell if the words from Rowanfall were coloured with distaste or not. She had wondered if he'd ever thought about it, now he was an exile from his home clan…

"I'm not _asking_ , but I wouldn't reject you, if that's what you wanted. Fernclan is large, but a strong warrior like you is always an asset." Rowanfall opened his mouth again, but Flamestar cut him off. "Don't worry about it for the moment. For now, you are simply a cat helping us to bring down Icestar. A guest." The leader purred. "Now, are you ready to come back to camp and let Sheepfur and Stormpaw fuss over you for the next hour?"

Rowanfall glanced towards the border, then to Keasong who nodded encouragingly, then back to Flamestar. "Alright then." He narrowed his eyes at the trio who had come after him. "If only to get you lot to leave me alone."


	16. Chapter 14

The day of the gathering had come. The day Fieldclan was to give the answer to Icestar's ultimatum…

Snowpaw couldn't help but fidget nervously as the Fieldclan party got ready to leave. It was a larger than normal contingent made up of only warriors and Deerspot (and Snowpaw, who was now the oldest apprentice with Ferretpaw's defection); Murkstar was likely expecting trouble. She had watched her leader lick his mate and each of his kits fervently before he turned away to organize things, looking over his shoulder with a strong love and longing to his family. It was a moment that caused a lump in Snowpaw's throat. She knew what he was thinking.

"Keep an eye on things Spiralfoot. Don't be afraid to send Springpaw for us if anything feels off." Murkstar was talking to the senior warrior who was being left in charge of camp. "I wouldn't put it past Icestar to raid the camp during the gathering…"

"Of course, Murkstar." The warrior with the twisted paw replied with a growl behind his voice. "The bastards won't even get in with our fortifications; not if I can help it."

The walk to the gathering grounds was uneasy. Snowpaw's mind kept reminding her that the last time she was there; the Gustclan bloodbath.

"Do you think Finchstar is going to show up?" She heard Waspsting ask Heronlegs up in front of her. The two she-cats walked close together, pelts brushing. Snowpaw had seen them share tongues regularly before, but it seemed like the two were rarely apart lately. Many of the cats in Fieldclan had been sticking close to their friends. Snowpaw herself had been going hunting and just goofing off with Kiwifeather as much as possible; now she was a warrior they had less time together than before. They'd been trying to make the effort over the last sevenday. The brown she-cat was padding along just behind Snowpaw, the quietest she'd ever seen her.

The air of "just in case" had been hanging over camp for days.

"I doubt it." Heronlegs replied softly. "Even if she found the other cats that got away, that only makes four of them. She lost three lives and most of her clan… I don't think even a cat of stronger will would be able to face the gathering after that…" It was left unspoken that Finchstar was a more soft soul to begin with. "That's assuming she's even alive still…" Nobody had seen the missing Gustclan cats since that day. Snowpaw had been hoping they might have gone to one of the other clans for help but…

Snowpaw gritted her teeth, then asked the question she'd wanted to ask her mentor all day. "Do you think there's going to be a fight tonight?"

Heronlegs sighed, a heavy sound. "I just don't know Snowpaw. Maybe. Once we say what we have to say to Icestar… Well, I can't imagine it will go down well… I don't know if he'll break the truce there and then. He has before."

"I bet you're wishing you'd stayed a kittypet right about now, huh kit?" Waspsting said, with a hollow laugh.

"No, I don't." No matter how many times she thought about it (and she had been doing so a lot lately), Snowpaw couldn't regret it. "I'm really glad I didn't." She wouldn't have met any of them, or Leopardtail (how was she doing? She didn't know.) if she had stayed a kittypet. She wouldn't have learned to hunt or grow strong or be able to feel the race of the wild in her blood and the wind off the hills in her fur.

"Better a short _real_ life?" Waspsting made that hollow chuckle again with a shake of her head, deep voice reverberating in Snowpaw's ears. "I guess so." She flicked her tail towards Snowpaw in what counted as affection for the big she-cat. "Chin up then, little warrior. Take your stand with pride."

…

The gathering hollow was silent as Fieldclan approached. They were usually the second to arrive, and generally the Marshclan cats made enough noise on their own… Murkstar gave the signal to enter, and the clan group moved down into the hollow behind him.

Surprisingly, they weren't the first there. They weren't even the second. Marshclan was indeed already present… as was Gorseclan. A tense quiet hung over the hollow with the two parties sitting on opposite sides from each other rather than intermingling as usual. Icestar was sitting up on the oak's branch in his usual place… with the rogue leader at his side.

Swallowstar leered up at them from his spot on the ground, with the rest of his clan. He looked far more frail than the last time Snowpaw had seen him. He was sitting unsupported, but Blueshine was right next to him like they were attached at the hip. It appeared he had only brought warriors and his medicine cat. And Thunderstream was threatening enough looking that she might as well be another warrior.

The blood from the Gustclan fight had been washed away by the rain, but there were places where one could still see the destroyed bits of nest from the temporary camp, or gouges in the ground. Snowpaw saw what she was certain was a bit of Cloudblaze's fur float caught on a branch. It made her feel sick, thinking of the warrior's vigil.

Murkstar completely ignored Icestar and the rogue leader, as well as the Gorseclan party (which Snowpaw now noticed also contained rogues, though they weren't exactly all buddy buddy with the Gorseclan cats either…) to bring his group to sit with Marshclan.

"Swallowstar." He inclined his head to the aged leader. The black and white tom turned to peer at the tabby. His face was gaunt, and his bones were showing through unkept fur. His yellow eyes were wide, staring and stark. He, frankly, looked like a cat on deaths door. The rumors said he'd lost a life during the sickness outbreak that had hit Marshclan a while ago… it meant the old leader was on his last.

"Murkstar…" He rasped back with a tiny nod. His body seemed to tremble just holding itself up. Blueshine dipped his head as well beside his leader, exchanging a glance over the elder's shoulder. His expression was grim. "Look at that cocky shit, will you?" Swallowstar continued, snarling in the direction of Icestar. "Up there with his pet rogue like he owns the place!"

"He certainly has… confidence." Murkstar replied tartly, sparing only a burning glance to the Gorseclan pair.

"Confidence!" Swallowstar spat, claws raking the ground. Flamestar and the Fernclan party had just arrived, slipping into the hollow. The old leader watched with satisfaction. "We'll show him though, eh?" He then paused, silence stretching just long enough that Murkstar looked to Blueshine as the black and white tom seemed to spare into space, before he jerked to life again. "Where's Finchstar already, then?!"

"Finchstar… won't be coming… remember?" Blueshine told his leader gently. Swallowstar swung his head to his deputy and stared. Another beat passed. Snowpaw found herself wanting to shuffle out of earshot. This was distinctly uncomfortable. The Marshclan cats looked decidedly so.

Flamestar made his way over as the Fernclan cats mingled into the gathering of three clans, all while Icestar watched with a cold gaze that made Snowpaw's fur crawl.

"No… No… You're right…Finchstar and Gustclan won't be here… They're gone." Swallowstar's tail lashed as he croaked out a response. "He has to answer for what he did...!"

"And he will." Murkstar affirmed.

"Absolutely." Flamestar answered.

"Well, well, well." Icestar's thunderous voice rang clear over them all from his perch. He was looking down at the other leaders with a slightly tilted head, orange eyes wide. Almost curious. Like a gross analogue of a intrigued kit. The tabby rogue sneered beside him. "This is most interesting indeed…"


	17. Chapter 15

Keasong rarely felt negative feelings towards other cats. Certainly not anything approaching hatred. She was joyful, trusting, kind… She couldn't quite understand Rowanfall's vehement hatred and desire for revenge… But the smug face of Icestar looking down on them all, after all he'd done, she could perhaps feel just a smidge of what the ex-Gorseclan cat felt.

She could feel Rowanfall stiffen beside her when Icestar addressed the other gathered clans. Flamestar had granted his request to attend the gathering (after all, he couldn't really stop him anyway; he wasn't their prisoner, nor was he one of Flamestar's subordinates), and with his wounds improving every day, he'd made the trip well enough. Keasong was sticking close to the red tom to make sure he didn't do anything impulsively due to the Gorseclan leader being in sight.

She noticed that he didn't look even slightly in his former clan's direction. A chocolate-smoke pointed tom stared as they entered, whispering something to a chocolate tortoiseshell and white she-cat next to him. Keasong had ushered Rowanfall further into the crowd of cats after that, not liking the two pairs of blue eyes on them.

Icestar's fearsome orange ones glaring down at them all was worse though.

"Not joining us up here, my fellow leaders?" The white tom addressed the other leaders that had remained on the ground with their clans.

"If you are there, it is not the place for any true clan leader to sit." Flamestar replied steadily, stepping forward to the front of the crowd. Earthshatter loomed behind him with fur bristling and teeth bared. He was one of the few cats that matched Icestar for size and bulk. "You defile the seat of great leaders past; having a rogue sit there with you! Gorsestar would be rolling in his grave!"

The big tabby at Icestar's side laughed as Icestar leaned forward. "Rogue? No, no my friends. This cat; my friend Sting, is a new leader of Gustclans… _replacement_. Clawclan! A new clan in its infancy under my guidance! This is exactly where he is supposed to be. And if you are wise, you will join me here at my side too Flamestar…"

"I think you already know that is not going to happen."

"Pity. And I take it that is your answer to my kind offer, Murkstar?" Icestar's little black ears were flat against his head. He looked simultaneously furious. satisfied and disappointed things hadn't gone his way.

"I'd rather go be a kittypet for the rest of my days before I handed my clan over to your rule." Murkstar's usually carefree voice was hard and cold.

"Ha! From the leader who took in a kittypet! Tell me, did you enjoy finding her corpse?" Sting piped up with a cruel amusement, speaking over Icestar to the big tom's clear annoyance. Keasong blinked. The kittypet Fieldclan was taken in was dead? It must have been when they tried to help Gustclan… poor thing wouldn't have stood a chance against those brutes!

"You'll find Snowpaw very much alive. And she is no kittypet… More a true hearted warrior than the filth beside you, _rogue_."

"Alive?" Sting looked surprised as Murkstar rested his tail on a distinctive rosetted pelt that came up beside him. The kittypet looked different from the last time Keasong had seen her. Warrior life had hardened the round cat. And wasn't she looking pleased with herself! The Fernclan tabby had no idea what she'd done to make the rogue leader think she was dead, but she clearly was satisfied she'd tricked him.

Sting's gaze shifted from easy-going, slightly bored and one that found this all quite funny, to one that was pure fury. Keasong could see a ginger tom slinking back away from the Gorseclan and rogue crowd, trying not to be noticed. But he was. Two other rogues blocked his path. "I'll deal with you later, Fang." Sting snarled as his cats corralled Fang in place. Keasong didn't want to know what he planned to do with this cat that had obviously lied to him…

Suddenly, the moment was broken by Swallowstar letting out a frustrated yowl. It was an odd sound; his voice strained with the effort. "Enough of this ratshit blabber about new clans and rogues and kittypets!" He growled, staggering forward to come up in front of Murkstar and Flamestar, roughly shoving Snowpaw aside to her hiss of protest. Bluewind, after sparing her a glance, quickly moved up to support Swallowstar as he nearly toppled over; the frail cat losing balance in his angry urgency.

"Swallowstar, still kicking I see…" Icestar said, his voice almost a purr as he turned his attention to the elderly cat.

"Barely." Sting observed with a grunt, eyeing Swallowstar and his deputy critically.

"Still kicking enough to tear your throats, vermin!" The black and white tom spat. Every hair on his pelt was on end; he looked quite wild.

"Swallowstar…" Bluewind seemed to be trying to gently encourage his leader to come back, his voice full of reproach and caution.

"Shut up you!" Swallowstar tried to shove the blue tom away, hissing. "Or I'll revoke you as deputy and you won't be getting that leadership you want, eh?" Bluewind looked offended (or maybe hurt? Keasong couldn't tell) but he dipped his head and moved off. He still lingered close behind his leader, ready to act.

"Trouble in paradise?" Sting chuckled. "Icestar shall I put the old fool out of his misery?"

"You won't hurt anyone here!" Flamestar yelled.

"If I wanted to hurt anyone here, Flamestar, I would have done so already…" Icestar's voice was full of malice, but he then shook his great head. "No, I won't break the truce."

"Like you ever cared about that before…." Rowanfall muttered under his breath at Keasong's side. She could see him working his claws in and out of their sheaths.

"However, my brothers and sisters in Marshclan, Fieldclan, Fernclan… you can be certain that your leaders will come to regret their error in refusing to join me in peace here to tonight…" Icestar continued, his face an ugly sneer. He raised his voice, practically shouting over the sound of the gathered cats as they sounded their protests. Gorseclan and the rogues sat in silence. "I will accomplish my mission from Starclan to face the coming doom! With or without your willing cooperation. The former Gustclan cats have seen the light and have joined with me fully!" Keasong now noticed a couple of former Gustclan cats in the rogue and Gorseclan party. They looked at their paws, distinctly disheveled in appearance. They all bore scars that looked fairly fresh. One had ears that were totally shredded…

"Do you really think you were the only one to receive a prophecy of a great destruction!?" Murkstar yowled up at Icestar over the murmurs of other cats. "All of us did! And I am certain it was warning us of _you_!"

"You're a damn blight!" Swallowstar snarled. "You and all your little pet rogues and twisted warriors!"

" _No_!" Icestar snarled, saliva flying from his large jaws. "I am the one chosen to defeat it by uniting the strength of all clans! Starclan guides me! The rest of you are just ants in the great war to come!"

Every word Icestar spoke had Rowanfall get more and more antsy. Keasong became worried as he dug his claws into the earth and grit his fangs together, green gaze burning as it stared up at the tyrant cat who had ruined his life and killed his mentor. The look on his face was actually scary… Keasong knew Rowanfall was a good fighter, but she had never considered him as "possibly dangerous". In that moment, she felt like maybe he could be…

"Sometimes one must do distasteful, vile things for the greater good-" Icestar's preacher-like ramble; one of a cat that truly believed his own hype, was broken by Rowanfall's loud, scornful bark of laughter.

"Do you _ever_ shut up?"

"Rowanfall, don't…" Keasong's urgent whisper was ignored by the red tom as he strode forward through the crowd, becoming visible to the two cats on the mighty oak's lowest branch.

"You talk a lot of crap, Icestar. I honestly can't believe I ever _admired_ you." Rowanfall addressed his former leader, voice dripping venom.


	18. Chapter 16

"So, you are alive after all. I'd wondered where you'd gotten to…" Icestar commented silkily. "And running with Fernclan these days? Why am I not surprised?" He glanced at his own clan cats, who exchanged looks. Keasong recalled Rowanfall saying that Icestar had told the other cats in his clan that he'd been working with Fernclan. Now they had even more reason to believe him. She glanced at Rowanfall's face. The ticked tabby tom let out a breath, expression steel.

"Sorry to worry you in my absence from hunting in your territory and getting to camp right under your nose, Icestar, but it was that or die, thanks to your rogues." Sting smirked as Rowanfall glanced his way for the briefest second. "Send all the knowing looks Gorseclan's way you want. My conscience remains clear... I know who the traitor is here, and it's not me." He looked towards the cats who he'd once called his clanmates. Most looked away. He curled his lip, showing a flash of fangs. Behind the anger, Keasong saw hurt in his eyes. "They can believe what they like." He was pretending he didn't care his clan still thought him a traitor and a killer. But he did.

"Are you here to try and finish what you started, then?" Icestar purred, taunting the red tom on the ground below him. He worked his huge claws in and out of the back of the oak branch.

"No... Oh, I _will_ , trust me. Not today, but one day when you think you're safe, I'll make you pay." Rowanfall's voice was dead serious. "But this time, I just wanted to _see you_. Hear what you had to say…" He looked at his paws a moment. "I had this idea of you sitting in my head, all this time… something powerful and dangerous and damn unstoppable… but now I see!" He looked back up, staring Icestar right in the eye; green into orange. "I see you're _nothing_. You're _pathetic_ and _scared_."

Sorrelfur, who had been sitting at the base of the oak in silence with an unwell-looking, thin grey rogue tom, moved forward with her fangs bared. Ready to repel a threat to her leader and mate.

"Sorrelfur." Icestar's voice was quiet, yet somehow it carried on the air. His deputy froze. It was a heavy thing, that one single word. He barely reacted, but every cat in the hollow could feel it. The white tom was seething. "So clever, aren't you, Rowanfall?" He half-crouched there on the branch. Ready to pounce?

"I'll admit it." He answered, almost cheekily. Certainly defiantly. Keasong lingered at his side, increasingly ill at ease. Fear scent wafted in the air from the gathered cats. Everyone could feel a fight coming on.

It was at that moment that the moon, which had been threatened by clouds all night, was covered. The hollow, bathed in it's pale light, went dark.

It seemed to snap Icestar out of his frosty fury. He shook his head a little as he stood. "This gathering is over, by will of Starclan." He unceremoniously pounced down from the branch, Sting behind him, and stalked off flanked by the rogue leader, Sorrelfur and the skinny grey. As they passed by, Keasong noticed the grey was loosing hair. Surely that cat wasn't well enough to be the second in charge of the rogues?

He paused before the leaders and Rowanfall. Keasong did everything in her will to not shrink back as the white tom's huge head looked their way, three pairs of menacing eyes over his shoulders. "See you all soon." He purred, before stalking off. Swallowstar kicked his hind legs like he was covering dirt in the direction of the white tom's retreating back.

It wasn't until the Gorseclan and "Clawclan" group had left the hollow that another cat spoke.

"Honestly I can't believe that there was no fight." Murkstar almost giggled with relief. His whole body seemed to sag as the tension rolled off him.

"But there will be one. He's going to try and pick us off one by one. He knew if he fought us all here at once he'd have more chance of losing, especially when you all brought mostly warriors. Besides he looks like he's the moral high ground by refusing to fight during a gathering truce." Rowanfall said with a growl. He was still staring at where Icestar had vanished into the shrubbery.

"Well I'm inclined to believe Rowanfall's thoughts on the matter. He knows Icestar better than any of us, and it makes sense." Flamestar said.

"This is the one that got exiled?" Swallowstar peered at Rowanfall. He looked exhausted already. Bluewind was still hovering behind him like an over-protective mother. "Bit of a cocksure brat, but I guess he'll be useful…"

"I take it he didn't actually do anything that Icestar said he did?" Murkstar asked, quickly abashed at the look Rowanfall fixed him with. Keasong continued to stand there, awkwardly, not wanting to draw attention to herself.

"He did attack Icestar, but I think no cat can blame him for that." Flamestar answered. "He's been staying with me; we found him injured by the rogues on our border."

"What, he's joined Fernclan? Don't you have enough bloody cats already Flamestar?" Swallowstar hissed loudly, like he couldn't quite hear himself over the combined muttering of the three clans worth of cats behind them all discussing what had just happened.

"I'm an independent party." Rowanfall replied coolly. "I just want Icestar brought down."

"Well I think we can all agree on that." Heronlegs grunted from next to Murkstar. The former kittypet (wasn't she her apprentice?) hovered, pretending she wasn't there and eavesdropping. Keasong exchanged a sly glance with her. They were on the same page. A talk between leaders was something no cat would miss out on listening in to!

"Regardless, we can't let Icestar take another clan out like Gustclan. Right now, with three of us against him, we stand a chance…" Earthshatter rumbled in his deep voice.

"We need to hit him first, together." Rowanfall meowed decisively. "There's not point in waiting for him to come to us and then trying to all rush to the right camp before it's too late."

"Agreed. Kick the bastard where it hurts at home." Swallowstar rasped nastily. "Before I die I want to see him and his rats whimper like a cowardly beaten kit."

"Surely he'll expect a preemptive attack on Gorseclan?" Murkstar commented, tilting his head slightly.

"Of course he will, but what other choice to we have? We just have to be smart about it and work around his preparations." Flamestar replied, expression grim but determined. "Rowanfall knows the territory; we can use that to our advantage."

"Guess we're lucky Icestar didn't just kill you then, huh?" Swallowstar made a strange laugh in the back of his throat. Rowanfall stared at him with open dislike, but it didn't seem like the old black and white tom cared. "I don't like it, but we've got no choice but to work together… I won't have my legacy be that of the leader that let Marshclan fall; I'd never be able to face the rest in Starclan!"

Flamestar nodded in acknowledgement. Keasong knew that her leader had once deeply respected Swallowstar; back in the days of his prime when he was of sound body and mind. She had to wonder how he felt about the state of the Marshclan leader now. "Then let us make a plan… We shouldn't wait till another day. We don't know when Icestar plans to strike. We should bring the fight to him as soon as possible."


	19. Chapter 17

Snowpaw was honestly shocked that an all-out war hadn't taken place at the gathering. But in the end, they still had a plan for one.

The leaders, deputies and the Gorseclan exile had spoken well into the night. Eventually the moon had reappeared, it's light shining down on the strange scene. The small group planning the counterattack sat near the base of the great oak, while those they had brought with them sat and shared tongues to wait. It was unusual, seeing the three clans intermingle in this intimate fashion. While cats from different clans did chat with each other at normal gatherings, they didn't exactly relax fully. In the end, the talks took so long that the cats eventually let their guards down with each other, to an extent at least.

Returning to camp in the early hours of the morning, it became clear that many of the remaining Fieldclan cats had stayed up waiting for the gathering group to return. Anxious expressions broke into relief and joy. Both sides had not been sure if they'd come back, or if an attack would be made on camp while they were gone. Snowpaw had curled up in her nest, Springpaw pressed against her from his, and fallen asleep almost immediately.

Heronlegs voice roused her. "Sorry Snowpaw, but no rest for the weary I'm afraid…" The deputy's sleek head moved back out of the apprentice den's entrance as the younger she-cat let out a great yawn. Springpaw was still asleep, so she was careful to shuffle away from him without waking him. He had been one of the cats to stay up last night, and he was still young. Hopefully Needleclaw would let him rest a little longer this morning. It was still odd, waking up with only one other cat in the den, now Ferretpaw was gone.

Not that she missed the bad-tempered traitor. Snowpaw had taken it upon herself to angrily tear his nest apart when they'd returned from the fight where he'd defected. He'd never been even just civil to her, let alone kind. She was certain he'd never said one positive thing to her, in fact! The only one she felt bad for was poor Possumtail. What little confidence the cat had was gone now his troublesome apprentice had taken off with the enemy.

Snowpaw left the den with apprehension rising in her chest. She looked at the fresh-kill pile and felt queasy. Today was the day. Before dusk, the three united clans would strike against Gorseclan and the rogues…

Heronlegs noticed the way she was looking at the fresh-kill from where she was sitting, waiting for Snowpaw to eat. She padded over, a sympathetic look on her face. "Snowpaw…" She started gently. "You don't have to come you know. I must, but that doesn't mean _you_ need to come with me. You can stay here and be part of the camp guard."

Last night, before the cats had gone to sleep, Murkstar and Heronlegs had arranged who would be part of their battle patrol. Murkstar had wanted both apprentices to remain, but Heronlegs had asked Snowpaw if she wanted to come, and she'd said yes. She didn't like the idea of just sitting and waiting in camp… Especially when her mentor and friend, the two cats she was closest to, were going.

It didn't mean she entirely _liked_ the idea of going either.

"I'm okay." She replied, trying to sound more convincing than she felt. It was also an attempt to bolster herself. Heronlegs twitched her whiskers. She didn't believe her. "Really! I'll… _be okay_."

"I hope so. I don't think I could live with myself if something happens to you after I let you do this." Heronlegs shook her head. "I'm allowing it because I believe in you." She touched her nose to Snowpaw's forehead before pulling back to look at her with a complicated gaze. It was the same thing she'd told Murkstar to convince him. "But _promise me_ you will run away if things go south."

"I will." She'd say to herself "why wouldn't I run away if I need to" but then she wondered about all the clear lack of self-preservation she'd demonstrated since those twolegs left her in this weird, brutal, wonderful place.

"Good. Let's head to the training grounds and review some tactics after you get something to eat then… After that we can rest until its time." Snowpaw agreed and Heronlegs padded off towards the leaders den; presumably she wanted to discuss something with Murkstar.

Snowpaw picked up a thrush and found herself staring at it in her paws outside the apprentice's den. Springpaw's soft sleeping breaths wafted out into the relative silence of the camp in dawn.

"I'm fairly certain you can't absorb prey into your belly by staring at it." A voice had Snowpaw's head snap up to meet the reserved expression of Lakegaze. The short-legged medicine cat had paused as he'd passed by. "But do tell me if it works; it would be a fascinating revelation worthy of study."

"Hi Lakegaze…" The apprentice replied somewhat sheepishly. She didn't see much of Lakegaze or his former mentor Deerspot. She hadn't really gotten to know them other than Deerspot seemed to be quite fussy and opinionated and Lakegaze was quiet but firm. Lakegaze had only become a full medicine cat recently, but he seemed to have taken to his increased responsibilities with ease.

"You look troubled." He observed calmly. "As is everyone, of course." Even the tom, who always seemed so unflappable, looked tired and a little strained. It had to be stressful as medicine cats too. Left to pick up the pieces…

"Yeah, I'm worried about… later."

"You're fighting? Such is the life of a warrior." A small thrum sounded in Lakegaze's throat. "Well, I hopefully will see you whole and hearty on the other side, after those ruffians have been shown what for." He looked like he was making to leave. A question lingering on Snowpaw's tongue came out.

"You haven't, ummm, heard anything from _Starclan_ about it?" The hesitant question seemed to take Lakegaze by surprise. "I mean!" She quickly continued, still feeling like she wasn't really allowed to talk about Starclan. "I just wondered…"

"No." He answered, looking a bit amused. "I haven't really. Not about this battle in particular… Neither has Deerspot or Murkstar to my knowledge. We had a nice normal, if uneasy, sleep like everyone else."

"Sorry, I just…" Snowpaw looked down at the thrush, shuffling its wings around with a paw.

"It's fine Snowpaw. It's just that unfortunately Starclan aren't the most _direct_ lot, and they don't throw out dreams of the future on demand. The best we can do is travel to the Starfalls and try and get a straight answer. Nine times out of ten, we're on our own…" Was that a hint of frustration creeping into his voice? Snowpaw couldn't imagine what the lives of medicine cats or leaders were like.

"I guess I still don't really know how the whole Starclan thing works…"

"But you believe in them?" He seemed genuinely curious.

"I saw Finchstar come back to life three times. I'm pretty sure they're real." She replied bluntly. The image still lingered in her mind.

"Fair enough a reason as any." Lakegaze considered her for a moment. "If you'd like I could give you something to ease your nerves? You wouldn't be the first cat lately."

Snowpaw twitched her tail, unsure. "I wouldn't want anything that dulls my nerves, really…" While it sounded nice, she felt the edge kept her alert.

"Up to you. The offer remains if you change your mind; the den is always open to a cat who wants help, you know." Lakegaze then waddled off with that strange gait of his. It occurred to Snowpaw as she watched him go that his unusual body possibly caused him quite a bit of hassle. He was much shorter in the leg than even his brother, Batear, who was short as it was. She wondered if it could be painful sometimes. Would he even have been able to be a warrior, if he'd wanted to be?

Part of her wanted to ask to satisfy her curiosity, but Snowpaw was fairly certain that would be rude, so she instead allowed the questions in her mind to distract her from what lay ahead later today.

The bird in her paws still looked wholly unappetizing.


	20. Chapter 18

**AN: There's some new worldbuilding stuff about the clans up on the story tumblr, and more new art incoming! You may also find out some juicy character info tidbits there!**

Keasong found herself playing with the kits as a distraction.

At dusk, the plan Rowanfall and the deputies and the leaders of Fernclan, Marshclan and Fieldclan came up with would be put into practice. They strike the Gorseclan camp and attempt to bring down or chase off Icestar and his most loyal followers. At the very least, they hoped to strike a strong blow and retrieve the Gustclan cats being held hostage. They'd all agreed that they could not afford to wait even a few days. Icestar was sure to make his own move soon. They had to act before that.

Keasong had been out on the dawn patrol. The borders were eerily quiet. Only in the north was there much activity to speak of; the twolegs were already up and about at their noisy busy-work making a mess of the forest, then planting anew behind the carnage. The patrols (along with hunters) of the last couple of days had noticed not only the little black things with the one red, glowing eye, strapped to trees, but also long rectangular things made from wood. They stunk of twoleg (the box also smelt of meat or bird eggs, strangely) and the cats were all instructed to keep well clear. Keasong had passed by one, and had to control her curiosity to look inside. It reeked of death, and that was enough to keep her well away.

The matter was a huge problem as the twolegs were making a large swathe of their territory unusable with their presence and destruction of undergrowth, and were only getting closer to camp, but it was a problem for later. Icestar was the most pressing concern right now. Flamestar hadn't even been able to ask the other leaders if the twolegs were causing issues in their territories as well.

"Aaaaaahhhh! Nooooooo!" Keasong let out a dramatic fake cry as the two kits dog-piled her, rolling over onto her back while Lichenkit and Ashkit clambered about on her belly with weak swipes and bites at her legs. Their mother, Tuisong, who looked like she was appreciating the break, watched from the queen's den entrance while she ate.

It wasn't the only pair of eyes watching, though Keasong hadn't noticed yet as she was occupied (and, currently, blinded by Lichenkit who had attached himself to her face like a leech). Rowanfall was sitting just outside the medicine cat den, observing the scene with a quiet fondness in his expression. He chuckled quietly as Keasong tried to shake the stubborn kit off herself.

The noise drew their attention. Lichenkit loosened his grip and flopped down on his rump. Keasong rolled over as the two kits peered over her back. "It's the prisoner!" Ashkit hissed, not as quietly has she probably thought to her brother. "Why's he watching us?"

"He's not a prisoner, silly things." Keasong laughed, pushing them off and getting to her paws. "Now go behave yourselves for your mother a moment."

"Aww are we not playing anymore?" Lichenkit pouted.

"I'll be back." She promised with a quiver of her whiskers. "I've still got to defeat you brave leaders and steal all your territory!" This seemed to satisfy the kits, and they ran back to their long-suffering mother. Tuisong sent her a long blink of thanks for playing with them. Those two were getting too big and rambunctious for the nursery. It wouldn't be long now before they were made apprentices…

"Please, don't stop. That was entertaining." Rowanfall commented with amusement as Keasong approached him. He was looking back to his old self, really. The wound would leave a scar, to be sure, but he was back in good condition otherwise, and was less mopey, now they had a plan… Well, back to normal Rowanfall levels of mopey, at least.

"Watching kits maul me?" Keasong huffed, with a falsely annoyed leer.

"Precisely." He replied seriously, with smirk for effect.

She let out a breath, giving herself a shake. A small cloud of dust drifted off her tabby and white pelt. "They're hard work, those two. Queens are the real strongest warriors in a clan if you ask me!"

Rowanfall let out a soft hum. "I hope those Gustclan queens are alright." He appeared to be feeling guilty and frustrated again, so Keasong was quick to give him a prod with a paw, then resting it on his chest till he looked her in the eyes.

"We'll save them!" She declared, energetic and determined. "With all of us together, we definitely will!"

The tom's whiskers twitched a little. "Yeah, yeah… you're right."

"I'm right more than cats like to admit." The tabby replied cheekily. Her clan liked to think of her as naive (which she probably was…) and a bit stupid (which she most certainly was not!).

"I guess so." Rowanfall laughed. It was a sound Keasong loved hearing, so rare that it was. He really did have a nice laugh! She was glad when she could bring one out of him, even if it was grudging. It meant he was letting that big old guard of his down a little. They'd spent a lot of time together since he'd arrived, purely because she had to take care of him, so it was nice to know he'd relaxed around her… and that her faux pas before hadn't ruined it all.

He then blinked like he'd remembered something, and suddenly looked distinctly awkward.

"What?"

"Uh… _about that_ , actually… Flamestar, Earthshatter and I were talking about who was going and um." His eyes darted to the side, ears angling back. "You're not."

Keasong's eyes narrowed. "Excuse me?"

"Flamestar decided you're staying here to guard camp instead. He told me to tell you…" Rowanfall was leaning away slightly, clearly picking up on just how unhappy about this Keasong was.

"And did Flamestar happen to tell you _why_." She was supposed to go with Lionmane and Rowanfall! She didn't want to be stuck waiting and worrying in camp when she could be out there actually _doing something_ and keeping her two mousebrained toms in sight!

"He, uh…" His eyes darted to off and away again. "He didn't say… _but_!" Rowanfall continued hastily as Keasong flattened her ears and her tail began to twitch. "But, I'd think it's because he thinks it would be good to have you here, keeping everyone's moral up. Those remaining here are going to be scared and worried… you're really good at cheering your clanmates up, Keasong. I've seen you light up a worn patrol faster than fat fresh-kill!"

On the one paw, Keasong was _delighted_ that Rowanfall was complimenting her (and without any threats of bodily harm on her part!), and she knew he was right in that she would be able to hopefully ease her clanmates a little through her cheery, energetic demeanor and humor, but she also wanted to go too! She didn't want to go and fight a bloody battle, but she didn't want to be left behind either. She wanted to make sure she kept her clanmates and Rowanfall safe as much as she could… Still, what could she say against the word of her leader?

"Alright." She huffed. "I don't like it, but fine. I guess I'm staying here…" At least Sparrowcrest was going to be here too…

Rowanfall looked relieved that the news had gone down as well as it had. He let out a funny little breath, just visible in the cold leafbare air. "Anyway, Keasong, I better-" He'd gotten to his paws and was making to turn away, but Keasong gave him a prod to pull his attention back.

"Wait, before you go." Something had been rattling around in her head all morning… "After… After all this is over. Are you going to re-join Gorseclan?"

He blinked, seeming to be a bit surprised by the sudden question. "Assuming they let me come back?" The rhetorical question was dry, but Keasong had heard him talk about his clan enough to know he was still incredibly bitter, hurt and angry nobody (except perhaps his mother Flowerdust? He never said a bad word against the queen…) had believed him over Icestar.

"Assuming." She didn't think he should. They'd let him down, and Gorseclan… they generally didn't like admitting they were wrong. Rowanfall was a shining example of that himself! He still kept insisting that his irrational idea of taking Icestar down by himself wasn't utter nonsense!

He gave his head a little shake. "Honestly, at this point… I don't know what to do. I figure if I'm still alive tomorrow morning, I can think about it then."

Keasong knew he was joking, but she didn't like him talking like that. She stared at him. "Not _if_. You will be. All of you will be."

"Right." He inclined his head slightly with a small chuckling purr. "I've really got to get going, as much as I would _love_ to stick around and watch you get beaten up by a couple of kits… See you." His short farewell left the tabby she-cat watching as he trotted off towards Flamestar's den with a brisk step. They were probably supposed to go over the final planning before the raid later.

Keasong sighed, then turned back towards the queens den. Lichenkit was biting his mothers' tail and Ashkit was begging for the last scrap of mouse. Tuisong was met Keasong's eye with a pleading gaze.

The tabby and white gave herself a shake, the pounced towards the den with dramatic flair. "I believe there are two little kits here who still haven't learned their lesson!" She yowled in a "scary" voice, playing the villain. The two kits squealed with delight as they barreled into her.


	21. Chapter 19

Snowpaw paced.

She knew she really shouldn't waste the energy, but she couldn't sit still.

Heronlegs kept glancing her way, but the grey/blue she-cat's attention was largely on Murkstar. The two were engaged in hushed conversation. Cats were gathering in the middle of camp, while others lingered the fringes nervously. The sun was soon to start dipping behind the hills that had once belonged to Gustclan, bathing the camp and its inhabitants in a golden light. It was almost the perfect leafbare sunset; crisp, clear and beautiful. But now what would normally be a pretty sight to be appreciated filled Fieldclan with apprehension.

It was time.

She had been training with Heronlegs this morning, and she felt as ready as she ever would be.

Murkstar moved away from his deputy and called a meeting from the tall pine stump where the leader addressed the clan. "My fellow cats of Fieldclan… We are about to dive headfirst into the mouth of the biggest threat our clan has seen in living memory. Icestar's mentor and predecessor Boulderstar, who tormented our clan for moons-" Many of the Fieldclan cats spat or hissed curses to both of Gorseclan's former and current leaders. "-was nothing but a mere nuisance compared to what we now face."

Snowpaw had been taught some, but not all of Fieldclan's history. They were a clan that had faced threats from other clans many times, as they were thought of as soft. Boulderstar had constantly tried to take territory from them during his tenure.

"Icestar thinks he can do whatever he pleases… that we are weak, and he is far too strong!" Cats booed and yowled to Murkstar's words. "What he, and many before him fail to realize is that compassion is not weakness! Kindness is not shameful! Is it not a queen's protective, burning love for her kits that causes her to be the most fearsome force in all the land?" He glanced towards the queens den, where his mate; Blueshine, sat listening with their kits. The fondness and worry in his eyes were clear, but he kept going. "It is our bonds of love and blood that make us strong; our bonds more powerful than any other clan! They make us strong because we have the greatest reason to fight; to protect what we love! With Marshclan and Fernclan beside us, Icestar and his fleabitten lot don't stand a chance!"

Snowpaw joined in with the supportive cries; Kiwifeather, Needleclaw and Springpaw, Heronlegs and Waspsting, Possumtail and Batear, and all the others all around her. She may not have been born in this clan, but she had come to love it with all her heart. And she would do what she had to in order to protect it and the new life she had built.

The cats had their orders about who would stay and who would go. Murkstar said a quick word to Hedgewhisker; the senior warrior being left in charge of camp, then gathered up his raiding party.

Murkstar himself, along with Heronlegs, Kiwifeather Waspsting, Batear, Nightcloud, Poppypelt, Spiralfoot and Bushtail were in the party, with Snowpaw as the last member. The rest of the clan would remain to ensure there was someone here to protect those who couldn't fight, just in case.

Murkstar moved them out; the sunlight glowing on their backs as they slipped out of camp single-file. "We'll have to keep and eye out for those twolegs Needlclaw saw earlier. I can't imagine they'll still be around this late, but it wasn't that long ago he saw them with Springpaw." The leader muttered to the group as the moved towards their eastern borders as a quick trot.

Needleclaw, knowing he wasn't joining the fight, had taken Springpaw hunting shortly before the raid was due to start to ensure there was something for the queens and their elder to eat while everyone hunkered down to wait. He'd spotted a pair of twolegs walking around, almost aimlessly and not sticking to the usual path their kind followed when passing through Fieldclan territory. They were out late; the twolegs usually vanished before the sun started to set. Needleclaw had reported them walking up to trees and bushes and looking at them, or peering down rabbit holes, jabbering away at each other. They'd been carrying large, long sticks.

Twolegs were generally harmless and easy to avoid if they didn't have dogs with them, but the oddness of their behavior was obviously enough to give Murkstar pause if he was mentioning them again. Snowpaw thought it was a bit pointless when they had a far bigger issue to worry about, but she wasn't the leader.

The plan was to meet at the point where all three of the territories of Marshclan, Fernclan and Fieldclan, touched with the tip of the Gorseclan border. That was where they would meet up and enter.

The tall grass in the field; green from throughout the last two seasons since the end of the drought, sheltered the Fieldclan cats well as the made good progress towards the border. As they drew closer, they became more cautious and jumpier. A quail pair flying up ahead of them made almost every cat in the patrol startle.

Batear was at the front of the patrol; with Murkstar close behind. Batear's keen hearing made him an excellent scout ahead for possible threats or unusual noises. Kiwifeather crept along next to her, unusually quiet. Even she had the sense to know when to get serious. Snowpaw was positioned in the middle; Heronlegs ahead and Spiralfoot behind.

The senior warrior with the twisted paw was able to keep up well despite his crippled foot and a noticeable limp. The paw was turned right around, so he was walking almost on the completely wrong side. The foot was also not properly formed; it looked like it was missing toes, or paw pads? Snowpaw didn't dare take more than a glance at a time whenever Spiralfoot was around. She'd never asked if he was born with it or if it was an injury. She'd also never seen him fight; but he had to be able to fight well if he'd been chosen for this mission. It would almost be interesting to watch and see how he compensated for it. If she actually had a chance too.

Murkstar's hum from up front announced they were getting close to the border, and the patrol slunk into a creeping stalk.

Another time, perhaps.


	22. Chapter 20

Keasong found herself distracted, even as she tried to keep the kits quiet and happy with games. She'd convinced Birdpaw and Barkpaw to join in and they were having fun, which was good, but her heart was only half in it.

She couldn't help but glance now and then to the camp entrance. They hadn't even been gone that long. They'd probably only just gotten to the Gorseclan border…

She could feel Willowwind's eyes on her back. The senior warrior; Flamestar's mate, had been left in charge of camp.

The older she-cat approached her, carefully stepping around the writhing mass that was Ashkit and Lichenkit playing. "Keasong, how about you take the next entrance watch from Sparrowcrest?" She searched the younger cat's eyes, obviously trying to read how she was feeling. "I know this is hard on everyone, but try not to worry too much alright? Over the moons, I've learned to think positively, and trust Flamestar's abilities. That Starclan will guide them home… He'll pad back through that entrance; I must believe that. They'll be okay."

"Yeah, I know." The odds were in their favour, she knew that. But it still didn't help this sick feeling in the pit of her gut.

"Go take over from Sparrowcrest. It might do you some good to get away from the noise in camp." Willowwind ran her tail against Keasong's body as she padded away, leaving the tabby to get to her paws and head out the tunnel of ferns and blackberry.

Outside, the forest was cold and gloomy. The light was lost to Fernclan early in the evenings thanks to all the trees. Sparrowcrest sat a short distance from the camp entrance; on the large exposed root of a willow tree. She was very still, save a twitch in her tail. Keasong knew her friend well enough to know it betrayed the stoic cat's own anxiety.

Keasong mewed a soft greeting, and the lithe she-cat turned her head. "Ah, Keasong. You're taking next watch?"

"Yeah, Willowwind thought it might be best I get some peace and quiet for a bit…"

Sparrowcrest blinked slowly, with a slight incline of her head. She understood that her friend was worried. "It's a nice evening, even if it is cold." A slight breeze ruffled her sleek brown fur as she got to her paws. "Good place to think." She considered her friend a moment. "Just don't do anything silly like run off after them, okay?"

"I'm not going to!" Keasong defended quickly. She'd follow her orders like a good warrior, no matter how much she wanted to go and make sure the others were okay. How far from Gorseclan would they be now? Would Rowanfall keep his cool, would Lionmane be safe, would Flamestar lead them to victory?

"Good." Sparrowcrest replied with a little purr, quickly relenting. She seemed to be about to say something else when she paused, large ear twitching as a rustle of undergrowth drew her attention.

"Sorry to interrupt, ladies." A sultry greeting meow had both the she-cats jump, turning towards the north. From out of the ferns appeared a distinctive longhaired black and white tom, with a mane that outdid Rowanfall's and then some. A red collar with little spikes sat snug against his throat, half buried from sight in his fur.

This could only be one cat; Jock, the barn cat from the twoleg farm over the other side Steep Rise. He was a long way from home.

"Relax, relax…" He hummed pleasantly, noting the tenseness from the Fernclan cats. "I know I'm not much welcome around Fernclan at the moment…" He looked far too proud of himself, and not at all guilty. "But I really must speak with your leader; Flamestar, isn't it?"

Sparrowcrest moved forward, slightly blocking Keasong. She narrowed her eyes suspiciously. "Why? What do you want to talk to him for?"

Jock didn't seem to mind the clear dislike and distrust coming off Sparrowcrest in waves. He padded closer in a slight arc, every step a strut. She followed his progress with a quiet growl as he got nearer. "I'm just trying to help you odd clan cats out, sweetheart." He soothed. "I'm no threat, promise."

"Chilleye probably begs to differ."

"Chilleye? Oh, the sweet, pretty little white number with the blue eyes like the brightest sky!" He chuckled, and Keasong was moving closer to not liking this guy every second. She joined Sparrowcrest in leering at him. "Ah, she couldn't hear, but she had such a vibrant view of the world none the less!" He sighed longingly. "We communicated _just fine_ …"

Sparrowcrest hissed in disgust, ears going flat. "Shut up already. What do you want to talk about with Flamestar? He's not here, so tell us instead. Now; or I'll make sure that face of yours isn't so attractive anymore."

Jock's whiskers twitched, but he lowered his head in submission. "Of course, love. No need to get testy; I'm a lover, not a fighter…" He winked at Keasong, who huffed in annoyance. Sparrowcrest moved further to block her from Jock's line of sight.

" _Now_ , Jock."

"Right, right…" He shook his head, great ruff of fur bouncing. "So, I know you clan cats don't… _get out much_." He hastened to continue when Sparrowcrest growled at him. "I mean, you probably haven't seen this yet, is what I mean…"

"Seen what?" Keasong asked, curious.

Jock gave her a warm look. "Well, my dear, the twolegs are building a huge fence up above the cliffs here…" He glanced up and towards the cliff nearby that the camp backed up to for protection, purring a laugh to himself quietly for the rhyme.

"Who cares? They've got fences for their sheep all over the place." Sparrowcrest retorted.

"I don't mean a normal post and wire fence you can slip through, my fiery little friend! This thing is huge and tall, and it goes under the ground, with a roof on top. It's wire mesh too; so tight not even a mouse could fit though!" Jock could obviously see the two clan cats couldn't picture what he was talking about, he sighed a little and put it in simple terms. "There's no way past it, is what I mean. You can't go through, over or under."

"I still don't see how this is our problem. So, the twolegs want better protection for their sheep-field? Who cares what the mad things do." Sparrowcrest's easy dismissal weighed thoughts of what the twolegs were up to in the north of their territory. Maybe they _should_ care what they were doing...

"It's not for the _sheep,_ pet!" Jock said with flamboyant insistence. "It's going around this place!" He waved a paw towards the forest. "Not just your territory either! The whole damn valley!"

"How would you possibly know that?" Sparrowcrest still seemed suspicious, but she had straightened up slightly.

Jock bounced from paw to paw, like he had too much energy to stay still. "I understand the twoleg jabber better than even the average kittypet! I'd sit for hours listening to them till I started to figure out meaning... call it a kitten's hobby I carried on with through the years." Keasong wondered what that would be like; being able to understand what twolegs said, even if it was only a few words. It could be useful in keeping the clan safe, sometimes. She'd love to know what the ones up in the northern part of their territory were doing. Maybe it had something to do with this fence Jock was talking about?

"Some strangers came to the farm; was sitting out front of the barn minding my own business when I see them staring at me. The boss-twoleg comes out, and they start talking… I don't understand everything they say, mind, but I got the general idea, and boy, it sounds _big_. They were asking if the boss could let them make the fences on the edge of his land." Jock continued. Keasong knew that the borders of Jock's farm were on the other side of the lake, on what was once Gustclan's land. The opposite side of the lake. It really did sound like they were going to build this fence all around the clans and the valley in which they lived.

"They were telling the boss not to let me or our sweet wee kittypet addition wander over this way; make sure we're wearing our collars." Jock rattled his slightly as he shook it slightly with a paw. "Something bad is coming for you lot, that's for sure. They were talking about "nature preservation and restoration", whatever that means… and "pest control". That's what I'm for in the barn! I kill the mice and the rats because the twolegs don't want them… and it sounded to me like they were talking about cats in the same line!"

Keasong the pit of dread that had been sitting in her gut all day deepen. She didn't really get half of what Jock said, but it sounded like danger for them. As if the needed more threats to their safety right now… Sparrowcrest looked worried beside her. "Anything else we should know?"

"Other than your fur looks stunning in the evening light?" He was quick to flatten his ears from the look she gave him. "No, nothing else I understood… Figure you clan types can sort out the rest and what it means for you. Figured I'd give you the heads up though."

"Well… thank you, Jock. We'll be sure to tell Flamestar when he gets back." Sparrowcrest's thanks was stiff, but cordial.

"Ain't even going to ask what he's up to…" Jock started off back in the direction he came from. "So unless either of you lovely she-cats would like to join me on a midnight stroll-"

"No!" Both snapped.

"…then I'll take my leave. Try not to die and all that!"

"Wait, Jock?" Keasong moved around Sparrowcrest. This was bugging her. She had to ask. "Aren't you even going to ask how your kits are?"

"Kits…?" He looked confused as he glanced back over his shoulder, yellow eyes almost glowing in the gloom. "Oh! Right… well, they'd hardly be kits anymore, right? I'm sure they're fine." Keasong _hoped_ they were fine. Both had gone to raid Gorseclan…

"Do you even know their _names_?" Sparrowcrest joined in, clearly unable to stay out of the chance to scrutinize the tom further.

"Uhh… Sure I do! They're…" He looked lost, then shrugged his shoulders. "Eh, not like I don't have plenty I can't remember the names of!" Seeing how displeased this made the she-cats, he took off running. "Ciao, lovelies!" He called back as he took off.

"Frostpaw and Blackpaw!" Keasong yowled back at him. She heard a faint meow of thanks, before the sound of Jock crashing through the forest faded away. He really didn't even care about them. About any of them… How many kits had he sired among the clans, that he didn't even seem that worried about?

Unless warning them about the potential threat from the twolegs was his way of showing he cared. That still didn't much impress Keasong.

"Asshole." Sparrowcrest spat. The tabby and white was inclined to agree with her friend. And Sparrowcrest called _Rowanfall_ a jerk!

Still, the information Jock had provided them was concerning at the very least. Flamestar would have to know about it as soon as he returned. Leaving Keasong to finish her shift watching the entrance alone, Sparrowcrest moved back into camp to inform Willowwind of what happened.

Now left alone in the silence and chill of the forest at night, Keasong took up Sparrowcrest's position on the large exposed root of the willow tree. Despite what they'd just learned, Keasong's mind drifted back to the more immediate problem. All she could hope was that Rowanfall and her clanmates would come back okay…


	23. Chapter 21

Snowpaw's steps became slow and deliberate as Murkstar's tail twitch gave the signal for caution. The tall grass made it hard to see around them, but they were coming up to the border, which meant they would have to pass over the twoleg trail and the area of grass the twolegs kept short with a small noisy monster they rode on. They'd be out in the open. Exposed, right by the Gorseclan border. It was unlikely to be an issue; the Gorseclan cats should all be retiring to their camp at this time of day, but as the group approached, the tense feeling in the group rose sharply.

The tall grass became patchy as they drew close to the trail. At a gap, Batear paused, radar-like ears twitching. "The twolegs." He said in a hushed voice. Snowpaw craned her neck to get a look around the grass clump. Sure enough, the pair of twolegs were in the distance; nearer Marshclan's border to the north, but their shapes were distinct in the fading light. They were slowly moving in this direction.

"What are they still doing here?" Heronlegs hissed quietly.

"Marshclan cats have told me that sometimes they stay in oversized monsters overnight at their side of the lake." Nightcloud commented, sounding unconcerned. Certainly, he looked the most relaxed in the group. Snowpaw found herself nodding her head. She'd seen what Nightcloud described during her first moon here, living in a tree in the area.

"This isn't the twoleg side of the lake…" Murkstar muttered. He looked concerned, peering at the twolegs in the distance around the side of the grasses. The cats could make out the shape of the long sticks they were carrying as the pair of them ambled along.

Something about those odd sticks was bothering Snowpaw. Like something she had seen before… heard about? A long time ago…

"So, they're taking an evening stroll!" Nightcloud replied, voice sharp but low. "With all due respect Murkstar, couple of twolegs are not what we need to be worrying about right now!"

Murkstar gave his head a little shake, but with a flick of his ear, indicated the patrol should move on. Fernclan and Marshclan would be waiting for them. The sun was almost completely gone now, and it was getting darker by the second.

The group passed into the open ground, one by one. Batear ahead, Murkstar behind him. Nightcloud was about halfway visible… Out of the corner of her eye, Snowpaw saw one of the twolegs point. They'd seen them? Their night vision was poor, but it wasn't totally dark yet, with a hint of the sunset still offering light. Kiwifeather tensed beside her. She heard the twoleg word "cat" as they jabbered to each other. She hadn't had the chance to learn much of their language before being brought her, but she knew that one.

In the distance, there was a click.

Batear's ear twitched in its direction.

The twoleg's had raised their long sticks.

Snowpaw remembered.

"RUN!" Her yowled cry was drowned out by a huge bang, followed seconds by another.

Nightcloud was bowled to the side in front of her, seemingly by nothing; a spray of blood from his head. Dirt flew as the mysterious force struck the ground too, inches from Snowpaw's feet. Kiwifeather's screech of shock rang in her ears.

The patrol scattered into the tall grass. Another bang, and another. The sound echoed in the otherwise silent grassland.

Snowpaw ran as fast as her legs could carry her. She lost track of the others quickly. The word for those things had come back into her mind; flashes of her mother telling about a deer who's head now decorated their twoleg's wall. Mounted beneath it… the _gun_ that had killed it.

Once she felt she was far enough away; hidden behind the ridge where they'd watched the Gorseclan patrol that had gone to attack Gustclan, Snowpaw finally allowed herself to catch her breath.

Wide eyes darted this way and that, every sense straining. She was almost too afraid to look behind her to where they'd come from. Up here, she'd be able to see…. Taking a deep breath, Snowpaw turned around and pushed her head through the grass.

She could see the twolegs. They were walking towards where the patrol had been, moments before.

Movement of the grass off to side, closer to the ridge, drew Snowpaw's attention. Heronlegs and Waspsting were approaching. The apprentice, slinking and quick, moved to meet them.

"Heronlegs!" Her urgent whisper had her shocked-looking mentor prick her ears.

"Snowpaw, you're alright." She sounded relieved. Waspsting nodded at her. She also looked shaken, even though she was normally so tough.

"I ran up onto the ridge; you can see them from there." Snowpaw turned back towards it, gesturing for the other two she-cats to follow.

"Are any of the others with you?" Heronlegs asked as she followed her apprentice back up the ridge.

"No, I couldn't see anyone else…"

"What… what was that?" Waspsting hissed. "Nightcloud… I've never seen anything like it…" She wrenched her eyes shut like she was trying to get the image out of her head.

"I just remembered when I saw them lift them; those sticks? They're called guns. Twolegs use them to kill things since they have useless teeth and claws. My mother's housefolk had one on the wall of their den."

Heronlegs blinked, taking the information in. "How? It was so… sudden."

"I don't know." Snowpaw shook her head, moving into a crouch as she reached the top of the ridge. "My mother compared it to a tiny bolt of lightning or something? I'm not sure. She didn't know either; she'd just seen them use it on magpies outside and gathered some things based on what she knew of their language..."

Heronlegs sudden took in a sharp intake of breath, which made Snowpaw look out over the field to the twolegs. They'd spread out a bit. The closest one was rummaging around in the grass. He pulled a dark shape out with one spindly paw.

Nightcloud, hanging from the leg being held by the twoleg, was picked up off the ground. The twoleg barked something at the other one, the word "cat" being used again, along with "big". The twoleg laughed as it waved Nightcloud around in a triumphant manner. He was limp, blood splattering to the ground from the wound to his head and dripping mouth his mouth. His eyes, half-lidded, were glazed over.

"No… _no_ …" Waspsting whispered from beside Snowpaw. He was her brother, wasn't he? Her only family left. Nightcloud was a respected senior warrior. A mate. A father… A talented fighter that hadn't been able to fight back against an instant death that seemed cruel and senseless.

This was wrong. Snowpaw knew not every twoleg was perfect (after all, it had been twolegs that had stolen her from her home and dumped her out here in the first place), but she also had known great kindness from them in her early days. And now… this was… _horrible_. That odd sound that Snowpaw had come to know as twoleg laughter echoed over the field.

The twolegs seemed to be finding this… _fun_.


	24. Chapter 22

" _Murkstar_." Heronlegs horrified voice drew Snowpaw's attention away from the twoleg that was now slinging Nightcloud's body over its shoulder.

Not far ahead of the second twoleg, movement of the grass betrayed Murkstar's position. From their elevated position the she-cats could see the dark tabby tom was dragging himself along the ground as he tried to get away, looking badly injured somewhere in his hindquarters. His large tufted ears lay flat against his head, eyes wide with pain and fear.

"We have to help him!" Waspsting hissed urgently to Heronlegs. "If that twoleg finds him…"

"And what are we supposed to do? We go down there and get blasted away like Nightcloud?!" Heronlegs shot back, looking like she immediately regretted snapping with the hurt on Waspsting's face.

"I have an idea." Snowpaw spoke up, staring intently on the scene in front of them. Oh, it was stupid. It was so blindingly _stupid_. _She_ was stupid. What was wrong with her? Ever since she'd joined the clans she'd started doing some ridiculous things! "It's probably going to get me killed, but if it doesn't, it might give you a chance to get Murkstar away."

"Snowpaw…" Heronlegs started warningly.

She looked her in the eye. "I know twolegs. I know I look out of place compared to the rest of you." Snowpaw continued hurriedly over the top of her mentor, aware they were facing a limited time. Normally she'd never talk over Heronlegs, but they just didn't have time for formality and manners right now. The twolegs were blundering in with the fading light; it was probably the only reason they hadn't found Murkstar yet, but she wouldn't be surprised if they had a torch light with them. "They might not just kill me the same as they would one of you. I can distract them, and you can save Murkstar."

"That's insane." Waspsting growled.

"I can't let you do that Snowpaw."

"What other choice do we have?!" Her yowl drew the twoleg's attention, the peered in the direction of the ridge. "What do you think will happen in the clan if Murkstar dies now, with everything going on?" It would break the clan. Heronlegs would be a good leader if it came to that, she knew she would, but to lose their leader while under threat from Gorseclan and the rogues? He was badly injured, but maybe he could heal. And still, he'd be _alive_ , and that had to count for something!

The older she-cats exchanged a glance. Snowpaw looked over her shoulder, checking the location of the twolegs, then took off down the ridge. She couldn't wait around for them to tiptoe to a choice.

"Snowpaw!" Heronlegs and her urgent, fearful hiss were ignored. This was the only thing she could think to do, and her mentor could punish her recklessness later if she was still alive by then.

Steeling herself, Snowpaw meowed a loud greeting cry, one that gurgled with a background purr. The one she had made many times to her former twolegs. This caught the two's attention. The one that was far too close to Murkstar turned towards her, lifting his gun. The other one seemingly couldn't, with one hand holding Nightcloud's body. Good to know they needed both to operate them. It didn't make her feel any better about this though. She swallowed as she hid there in the grass; sensitive ears picking up the sound of Waspsting and Heronlegs moving down the ridge. Seemed like they were moving for Murkstar, thankfully. Not that she'd given them much choice.

This was the moment of truth. She just hoped the twoleg would have to take a good look at her before it could use that thing. She stood up and left the tall grass, tail held high like she was approaching a clanmate, letting out another series of greeting meows as she padded towards the twoleg. It raised the gun immediately, training it to her.

Snowpaw kept up the friendly demeanor, hoping beyond hope that Waspsting and Heronlegs had gotten Murkstar safely away by now. She was waiting for the click, for the bang, but hoping it wouldn't come.

The other twoleg, Nightcloud still swinging in its grasp, said something to the one with the gun pointed to her... "cat" "pet". A jumble of other words she didn't know. The gun lowered slightly. The twoleg's expression was puzzled.

She purred loudly, getting so close to the dangerous twoleg she was able to wind around it's legs. The way she had greeted her housefolk came back to her easily. The twolegs spoke back and forth to each other. The gun dropped to one side. A hand hesitantly came down. Snowpaw raised her head to meet it, feeling sick she was allowing this twoleg who had just hurt her leader and killed Nightcloud to pat her like her former kind housefolk.

She twined around again, rubbing herself against it's legs, but this time to get in better position to see the ridge. The twolegs wouldn't be able to see with the dim light, but Snowpaw could. Murkstar had been successfully aided to the top. Heronlegs and Waspsting were there, crouching. A surprised addition, Spiralfoot, was there too. It seemed he had also been lying in wait nearby rather than running off completely.

Now she just needed to get away safely.

The twoleg made to pick her up, presumably they would take her away as they thought her a lost kittypet. Well, once, that was what she was…

But now she was a wild cat.

The second the twoleg's hands closed around her midsection, the gun now safely slung over it's shoulder, Snowpaw made her move. Her body burst into action, twisting and flailing in the twoleg's grasp. It shouted, surprised, as she raked her claws across vulnerable flesh and bit down on spindly fingers.

A second shriek had her glance at the other one. Batear, seemingly from nowhere, had latched himself onto it's leg. There was no way they'd be able to get Nightcloud's body, but he provided a good distraction. Perhaps it was also a tiny bit of revenge.

The twoleg dropped her as it screeched in anger and pain, and Snowpaw stumbled when she hit the ground, then took off running into the tall grass as fast as her paws could carry her. Batear streaked along behind her, leaving the cursing twolegs in their wake.


	25. Chapter 23

Keasong had been about to doze off in her nest; finally giving up on waiting up for the raid patrol, when a cry from outside brought her straight back up to full awareness. She leapt up, causing a slumbering Duckwing to startle awake next to her. She didn't even wait to let the older she-cat know what was going on before bounding outside.

In the camp, other cats were gathering. Through the entrance was padding the raid patrol. Tired, worn, some bleeding. But alive. Here. Relief blossomed in Keasong's chest, but the looks of the faces of her returning clanmates also bred concern.

Flamestar led his cats. His fur was bloodstained around his head, but Keasong could see no wound. His eyes had a far-away, exhausted look to them. Lost in thought… Had he…?

Willowwind rushed to greet him with a delighted cry as Keasong searched the party with her gaze. She saw Lionmane first; large and thick furred and battle-scarred. He was okay. He looked angry. Frostpaw was supported by his brother, limping on a front leg. There was Wrenfeather. She seemed to be one of the more unharmed, but she was more subdued than usual as Grasstail greeted her at the entrance.

The whole raid party was there… they'd all made it back… except. Fear gripped around Keasong's chest like an icy claw. Flamestar seemed to notice her distress at Rowanfall's absence, for her broke off from his quiet muttering to his mate and moved over to her.

"He's alive." That regal voice was always soothing, and his words even more so right now. "Quite unhurt, actually."

"Where is he then?" He hadn't run off again had he? She thought he was past that! Out of the corner of her eye she noticed Sparrowcrest lingering in the background, face tense. She probably wanted to talk to Flamestar about what Jock had said, but right now that wasn't forefront of Keasong's own worries.

"Rowanfall said he had something he needed to do. Somewhere he needed to go." Flamestar shook his head. Keasong had to make sure she didn't find herself staring at the bloodstains on his pelt. "He promised he'd be back."

The tabby she-cat let out a little sigh of respite, and then found herself curious. "Did he say where?"

"No. He wouldn't tell me, and since I'm not his leader he wasn't obliged to either… Not within Gorseclan at least." He considered the disappointed warrior before him a moment. "You know how cagey he can be, Keasong, and in the circumstances I didn't want to push the issue too hard. He asked me to trust him to come back, and I have."

As much as she wanted to know where Rowanfall had gone off to, she understood. "Speaking of circumstances… what-" The leader broke her off with a flick of his ear, voice grim.

"I'm about to address the clan. You'll hear." And with that, the tom padded away, his mate and deputy quick to join him. Earthshatter waved away Sheepfur as she approached to look at his torn ear. The medicine cat and her apprentice moved to the rest of the raiding cats instead to check and tend their wounds. Nobody looked seriously hurt at least.

Keasong would have called it lucky, if she hadn't then heard what Flamestar had to say when he called the clan meeting moments later.

Fieldclan's patrol hadn't turned up. There had been some loud, strange noises from their territory around dusk as the other two clans waited, and Fieldclan never came. The other two patrols; Marshclan led by Bluewind due to Swallowstar's fragility and ill health, decided to go ahead with the raid. They still had plenty of cats on their side, and the element of surprise.

In the end, it had been a poor choice.

At first, it had been going well. Gorseclan had made some preparations, but clearly weren't expecting a counterattack so soon. The rogues weren't even there. It seemed they had their camp elsewhere…

But then Bluewind was killed by Icestar and Sorrelfur. The brave fool had been taking on two of the best fighters in the valley on his own. Marshclan's battle leadership started to fall apart after that. The senior warrior Bogclaw seemed to be getting his cats together again when the rogues arrived. How they had found out, no cat could say. Perhaps a Gorseclan cat ran to tell them, and their own camp wasn't far. Maybe they'd somehow known it was about to happen in advance…

Their arrival firmly turned the tide. The fought viciously and fought dirty. The Gustclan prisoners they'd been trying to rescue had to be left behind to be recaptured. Flamestar ended up against Icestar while Bogclaw fought Sorrelfur, and Sting, the rogue leader came in from behind. He lost a life.

Apparently, it was Rowanfall's interference that stopped him from losing them all. He took on Icestar, while Earthshatter occupied Sting.

"He fought like a cat possessed." Earthshatter had rumbled. "Like a raging fire that flickered away from Icestar's blows. Looked to me like even Icestar was surprised. A little longer and he would've had the bastard… Gave him a few new scars for that ugly collection, that's for sure." The cats in the clan listening had muttered to each other. Many still did not trust Rowanfall. Perhaps now, that had changed.

In the end though, they were overwhelmed. Some of the Marshclan cats had fled when Bluewind was killed, and without Fieldclan's numbers, it was just not enough. They were forced to retreat. They left behind the Gustclan cats. They hadn't stopped Icestar, or Sting. The only death on all sides was Bluewind.

They'd lost, and now they could be certain that their enemies were going to come for them.

A tense, fearful quiet had fallen over the camp at the end of Flamestar's words. Sparrowcrest broke it from beside Keasong. It was further bad news, but they had to hear Jock's warning.

"There's something else everyone needs to know too…"


	26. Chapter 24

**AN: Please remember to direct any questions (or even art requests!) to the kiwibattlecats tumblr! Thanks!**

As it turned out, Rowanfall didn't return until the next evening. It had been a long, tension filled day. Most cats didn't really care about him specifically, but they were worried about when Gorseclan and the rogues might strike back, and now with the added pressure of whatever the twolegs might be doing to the valley. Flamestar was out of sight in his den for most of the day; as was Willowwind, Earthshatter and Sheepfur, presumably deep in talks about what to do now. The latter came out now and then to tend to the injured along with Stormpaw. Her medicine cat brother seemed to be in his element. He deserved his full name soon.

Flamestar, Willowwind, Earthshatter and Sheepfur left at one stage to go see the fence Jock was speaking of. They confirmed its existence to the rest of the clan, then withdrew once more. This time with a few more senior warriors in tow.

Keasong went hunting and played with the kits, but her mind was elsewhere all day. Even the kits seemed to understand something was wrong. Their games were very half-hearted. A cold wind blew through the trees from fresh snow on the top of Gustclan's old range.

She was sitting sharing tongues with Lionmane under the canopy of the trees; dusk sky peeking through the leaves, when Rowanfall padded into camp, almost nonchalantly. He appeared worn and paw-sore, but otherwise certainly didn't look like he'd been in a fight then vanished for a night and day. Indeed, he looked more elated than Keasong had seen him in a long time.

"Oh good, they've not attacked you yet." He commented smoothly as Keasong approached with a bouncing step. She could almost _feel_ Lionmane's frown on her back. He wasn't the only one. The clan had been noticing how much time she spent with Rowanfall. But she found herself not really caring!

"Really, _that's_ the first thing you say?!" She meowed with both a hint of scolding and laughter, tail held high as she reached the tom. "Where have you been?"

"Well, it _was_ a possibility." Rowanfall insisted dryly. "And, _around_."

"Oh, come on Rowanfall, you have to tell me!"

" _Have to_ is a very strong way of putting it." His bushy tail twitched, almost tauntingly. "And no, I don't." She was certain he was just playing hard to get with the information purely to annoy her.

"Keasong, let the cat breathe." Flamestar's strong voice made her snap her retort shut in her jaws. She turned to see the tom strolling their way; Earthshatter his muscular shadow.

He came up to stand before Rowanfall, Keasong moving aside to let him. The two ginger toms looked at each other for a long moment. The leader dipped his head, and Rowanfall blinked, seeming a little surprised. "Young warrior, I didn't get a chance to thank you before… I owe you likely several of my lives… Perhaps all of those that remain. You have my deep gratitude."

Rowanfall stared for a second then cleared his throat. He inclined his head as the Fernclan leader raised his. "Any decent cat would have done the same… You humble me." He mumbled formally. Keasong could remember him as an apprentice, being praised at a gathering. He'd looked anything but humble then. It always fanned his cocky attitude. She wasn't sure if the tom was just putting on a show here for Flamestar, or if he really had changed.

Then again, when Keasong thought about it, she realized Rowanfall had already had the ultimate chastening, thanks to Icestar… How could he be humbled any further after that?

"You also have a reminder of my offer to join Fernclan." Flamestar continued. "I think no cat would object now after you fought so strongly for us."

"I appreciate the offer, as I did before, Flamestar." Rowanfall lifted his head. "But I still will not make any choice until after Icestar is dealt with. I need to see Gorseclan for what it is without him in charge." His voice gave no room for convincing. Not yet.

Keasong couldn't read Flamestar enough to tell if he was disappointed or not. "Very well. As long as we can still count you as an ally, then that is enough." He turned, a wave of his tail indicating that Rowanfall should follow. "Now then, let's talk in my den, and you can tell me what you've been up to."

Keasong groaned internally. She was going to miss out on hearing about stuff again! "Keasong." She immediately perked at the sound of her name. "You come along too. I have something I need you to do."

Inside Flamestar's den, she was surprised to see Blackpaw was sitting and waiting. He had a bored look on his face until the trio walked through the entrance, and then sat to attention. Having now met his father, Keasong could see a bit of Jock in the young tom's face. Not that she'd ever tell Blackpaw that. She knew he despised his blood father deeply.

"Before we start, Rowanfall." The handsome tom hummed his acknowledgement as Flamestar sat in his nest. "Do you object to either Keasong or Blackpaw hearing about where you've been?"

Rowanfall shook his head. "I don't really care if the whole clan hears later, at this point." He took the Fernclan leader's settling down his nest as his okay to go on. "I went to Starfalls."

"Starfalls?" Keasong was surprised. "But don't you-" Rowanfall sent her this strange look, and she fell silent. Flamestar looked thoughtful. Blackpaw was listening intently from the other side of the den. His white markings and yellow eyes seemed to shine in the darkness of the leader's den.

"I had a gut feeling." Rowanfall continued. "I spoke with Moonfall when I arrived. Seemed like she was expecting me."

"She always does." Flamestar commented wryly. The way Rowanfall nodded slowly in agreement made Keasong wonder if he'd been to see the strange Starfalls guardian before. Outside of his traditional trip as an apprentice, that is.

"She also seemed to already know what had happened with the raid. We talked for a while…" Keasong noticed he was being evasive about exactly _what_ they talked about. Something private? Maybe he wanted to talk about Starclan with her? She knew they were a bit of a sore spot for him. She wasn't sure from her conversations with him before if he still didn't believe in them, but she knew he was still not their biggest fan. "She had some very interesting information I was hoping she might know."

"Which was?" Blackpaw asked impatiently. He never could appreciate a good retelling of a story, even as a kit. Keasong could remember him interrupting the elder's stories asking about the end all the time.

"The four Gustclan cats that got away. They're living around Starfalls."

Flamestar's ears shot up. "Did you find them?"

Rowanfall shook his head, flicking his tail like the fact annoyed him. "I searched, but it seems like they went into hiding. I found some fairly fresh scent but couldn't track them as it appears they crossed the river deliberately to throw it off. Moonfall wasn't surprised. She said Finchstar is broken and the elder won't live much longer either. I imagine they don't want to be drawn back into conflict, or they fear someone coming to finish them off."

"They don't even want to save or avenge their clanmates?" Blackpaw snorted, voice tainted with disgust. "Cowards."

"If you'd had what happened to them happen to you, you might feel the same, young one." Flamestar cautioned slowly. "I'm sure they _want_ to help but see no way to. They likely only see their deaths. I would like to contact Finchstar, now we know she's alive and still relatively close… I'll have to think about how to go about it."

"Moonfall had a message for you too, Flamestar." The leader looked back to Rowanfall, who's expression had turned odd.

"One should always heed her words. They are sometimes those of Starclan, after all."

"She said "remember my former's last". I'm assuming that means something to you?" Flamestar's eyes went wide, then narrowed. His face was full of caution and thought.

"I see. Was that all?"

"I saw this weird huge unfinished fence on my way, some twolegs… but otherwise no. That was all that is relevant to you." There he was, being evasive again. She was sure Flamestar noticed it too, but he didn't comment. Keasong's curiosity burned, but she wouldn't ask. Whatever it was, it must be personal. If he wanted to share, he would.

"We know about the fence. I'll tell you about it later… I will think about what you've told me Rowanfall, thank you. This may very well be crucial. Now then, as for you both; Keasong and Blackpaw…"

Rowanfall, taking his silent dismissal, padded out of the den. Keasong hoped she could catch up with him after, but for now, Flamestar had her full attention.

"I want you both to travel to the other clans; Marshclan and Fieldclan. We need to discuss what happens next and I must warn them about this plan of the twolegs that Jock told us about… Blackpaw; you have rested well? Your wounds do not bother you?" The tom nodded silently. "Good, you will travel to Fieldclan. I need to know why they didn't join us on the raid. Tread carefully, just in case."

"Yes Flamestar, it will be done."

"As for you Keasong, go to Marshclan. I think your personality will be well suited to envoy them… they'll be in crisis with all that's happening with their leadership. Find out who has succeeded Bluewind and the state of Swallowstar as well as pass on my messages. I need to know who I'm going to be dealing with in the leadership role."

She dipped her head. "Of course, Flamestar."

"You will both leave at sunrise, but come see me before you go... Get some food in your bellies and a good night's sleep."


	27. Chapter 25

Snowpaw shivered as she glanced towards Gustclan's old territory. There was snow up on the back mountains and hills now. White stark against brown and grey and dark green. A bitter wind was blowing down onto Fieldclan, and there had been frost on the ground that morning. Steam rose off the wooly backs of the twoleg sheep moving through the paddocks on the other side of the fence.

 _How appropriate._ She thought bitterly. A cold wind had blown over Fieldclan indeed.

Nightcloud was gone. Obliterated away like an insect under the tread of a larger creature. They didn't even get to bury him. Heronlegs had difficulty explaining to the clan; to his mate and kits left behind, what exactly had happened. Why they hadn't been able to bring him home. Why they had to sit his vigil without him. He was a strong senior warrior, and his loss had been felt sharply.

And Murkstar… Snowpaw hissed when she thought of her leader. She was angry. She was scared. She didn't understand. The act of the twolegs somehow felt like a betrayal, even though she hadn't known them. It was hard to think of her former housefolk fondly now, even though she knew it wasn't their fault. But they had owned one of those _things_ all the same. How many creatures had they killed with it? She couldn't believe it had been any cats, but still the "what if" lingered uncomfortably in warmer memories of her housefolk.

When the group that had gone to raid Gorseclan all returned, after things had died down, Heronlegs was told that Ferretpaw had been scented not far from camp… What had he been doing, lurking around? Had he been having second thoughts about his abandoning the clan? Was he spying on them?

Nothing about any of this sat right with her.

Unable to find any other way to vent, Snowpaw had taken herself out of camp to hunt. Technically, she was supposed to be caring for the queens and Houndleg exclusively (Heronlegs had still punished her for her disobedience, even if it had worked out alright in the end), but she could make the excuse she was hunting for them… It seemed like the prey could sense her emotional turmoil coming, because she wasn't having much luck. And with every failure, she was only getting more pissed off.

A mouse practically slipping through her claws was the last straw.

She let out a furious screech, lashing out with claws at the nearest pine's trunk. Flakes of bark went flying in a very satisfying way.

"Do you Fieldclan cats always train against opponents that can't fight back?" A snide voice drew Snowpaw's attention out of her rage, and she whipped around to face the unfamiliar sound.

There stood a black and white tom. He looked young. Maybe a newer warrior, maybe an older apprentice. He seemed vaguely familiar; perhaps she'd seen him at a gathering before. The forest scent of Fernclan clung to his pelt.

"Why are you here? What do you want?" She spat, bristling, not in the mood for a tom's snark right now.

"Touchy." He replied with a droll tone. "I'm here on behalf of Flamestar to speak to your leader, actually. Important business." His tail swayed back and forth slowly. "So, if you'd be so kind to escort me to your camp, kittypet, that'd be grand."

Ugh. Snowpaw was really getting sick of being called that. Her clanmates just did it in a playful tease or fond nickname these days. She didn't mind that. But cats from other clans, who all knew who she was, just used it the same way they always did. Mild disgust and definite dismissal. She was sick of it! She'd lived in the clans for moons now! "Maybe if you ask without the slur, I will." She responded in the most controlled manner she could.

"Ha." The black-footed tom chuckled lightly, but he inclined his head. "Lead the way."

Snowpaw could have done with a "please" or "thank you" but the sooner she got rid of this guy the better. She led him towards the camp. About halfway there, she looked over her shoulder at him. "What's your name?" She managed to avoid adding an "asshole" to the end of that. Be the bigger cat, Heronlegs always said.

"Blackpaw. And you're Snowpaw right?" She grunted in response and looked back ahead. "How much further?"

"Not far. You can see it now, actually." She flicked an ear towards the cluster of pine ahead, where the camp was nestled.

"Good, I need to get back to Flamestar as soon as possible. He needs to know why you cowards didn't show up."

Snowpaw froze in place. She dug her claws into the dirt. Cowards. _Cowards_ , he called them. This ignorant…! "Say _one more thing_ and I swear I'll rip out your tongue."

There was a pause of silence. Blackpaw must have been surprised by the ice in her voice. "…Sure."

The rest of the walk was very quiet indeed.

She stalked into camp in a worse mood than when she left it, blue eyes angry slits. She jerked her head towards the leader's den. "You can speak to Heronlegs there." Some of the cats in camp looked up, watching the stranger warily. She could see a few frantically sniffing. Checking it wasn't the enemy.

"Not Murkstar?"

"He's in the medicine cat den." Snowpaw replied shortly, clenching her teeth together.

"Why?" She could feel Blackpaw's eyes peering at her, but she didn't look at him.

"Go find out." And she padded off to leave him too it. He'd hear from Heronlegs. She didn't want to tell the idiot. She didn't want to say it out loud.

Murkstar had been hit by one of the twoleg's guns. His back end was next to useless. It had damaged his nerves or something. Snowpaw didn't really understand. Deerspot said her mentor had told her about a cat with a similar injury after a large branch fell on him in a storm. There was nothing they could do.

He'd be crippled for the rest of his life.


	28. Chapter 26

"You don't need to come with me, you know." Keasong commented as she trotted through the trees towards the Marshclan border. Early morning fog hung heavy in the air. It was hard to see more than a couple of catlengths ahead, and a wet cold clung to her tabby and white fur.

"I know. I'm not coming for you." Rowanfall returned as he moved at equal pace at her side. He'd learned how to navigate the forest floor well. He only made the odd misstep now, but that could be down to the fog today. "I want to see what the state of Marshclan is for myself… and confirm something."

Curiosity about what he wanted to "confirm" aside could he be a little less blunt about the fact he wasn't coming for her sake? Jeez!

The tom possibly picked up on Keasong's thoughts, for he continued after bounding over a mossy log, his breath visible in the cool air with an exhale. "I know you can handle this on your own." Rowanfall clarified.

Keasong blinked at him. "Oh."

"You have your _moments_ …" He let out a little huff as she gave him a look in joking anger. "But you are more capable than some of your clanmates, or rather _you_ give yourself credit for. I've watched you hunt and followed you on patrol. Starclan knows I've rarely met a cat more damn stubborn in doing what she thinks is right! I pay attention to a lot of things, Keasong. One of my many redeeming qualities." He flashed a smug look across his features, a look of a handsome, playful gaze. "That's why I don't worry."

It was in that moment Keasong realized just how much some of the others sold her short. How she did too. She felt like she messed stuff up a lot; curiosity or playfulness getting the better of her. Like when she got them spotted by the twolegs before… Wrenfeather had always been hard on her and called her stupid or just the clan fool. Sparrowcrest was overprotective and didn't seem to trust her to do anything potentially dangerous on her own. Had she started believing it all at some point?

She purred her thanks to the tom. "I really appreciate that, Rowanfall. Thank you." He gave her a long look before letting out a noncommittal grunt and striding ahead. She chuckled to herself quietly and bound after him. He wasn't quite there with reciprocating deeper sincerity yet, it seemed. That was okay.

"I hope Earthshatter will be okay with me cancelling our training again." He muttered after a while, changing the subject. He'd been training with the large tabby to practice fighting big powerful cats like Icestar.

Belly and leg fur still cold and wet from crossing the chilly river, the pair passed over the Marshclan/Fernclan border. Flamestar had given Keasong directions to the camp. Fortunately, it was not far, nor nestled deep in the swamp. She didn't really fancy trudging through a smelly bog! Part of her wondered why it wasn't though; it would make for a better defence. The current camp was in sight of the Fieldclan border!

When she queried Rowanfall on it, he tilted his head in thought; tail doing that cute little flick it always did when he was wondering about something. "Probably a practical reason… I imagine if the camp was much further in, the marsh flood would be regular enough to be a real inconvenience."

Keasong nodded. "That makes sense." She felt a little silly she hadn't thought of it herself before asking. Everyone knew Marshclan had a back-up camp hidden away just in case their regular one was flooded.

The camp came into sight. The enormous weeping willow was hard to miss even in mist; sitting on the edge of the swampland, its branches touched the ground in all directions, creating a curtain around the camp itself.

Sitting outside was a lookout; outline just visible in the fog. The cat perked up as they approached, and quickly raced to them, long white fur bristling. This was Whitewind; he'd been an apprentice around the same time as Keasong was. "Who are you?" He sniffed the air from a catlength away, likely picking up their scent. Rowanfall was smelling more and more Fernclan every day, Keasong had noticed. "What do you want?"

"I've been sent on behalf of Flamestar." Keasong answered. "I need to speak with your leader."

Whitewind looked indecisive for a moment. His thick tail swept across the green grass. "Fine. But Swallowstar is frail… you can't stay long." He didn't wait for a reply and moved off, expecting them to follow. They exchanged a glance before doing so.

Even Keasong knew that if Marshclan cats were outright admitting Swallowstar was weak, it couldn't be good at all. He'd not been looking great back during the last gathering… was he even worse now? She knew the leader was an old cat; much older than Flamestar who was getting silver in his muzzle. In another clan, he probably would have retired moons ago, but Marshclan leaders never retire due to either pride, or tradition.

The Marshclan camp hidden beneath the drooping branches of the weeping willow had a damp smell to it; even more so than the foggy air. The soil, peat and moss beneath Keasong's paws was soft and a bit moist to the touch of her pads. Not an unpleasant sensation, but she could imagine the Marshclan cats would get very muddy when it rained if anything got through the cover of leaves above.

The layout was interesting. Little plant life could survive in the deep, all day shade under the willow, so it looked like dens had been made beneath dead logs, or boulders, or fallen branches; fern leaves from outside gathered to make the den proper. Dried moss and marsh grass made up the majority of the nest material, from the peek Keasong got inside of the largest den (likely the warriors) as they passed by it. Counting, she could not see a medicine cat or leaders' den.

"Swallowstar's normal den is up there." Whitewind spoke up, like he was reading Keasong's mental questions. He flicked his tail up towards the trunk of the great willow. About a third of the way up, accessible by a huge branch, was a hollow in the trunk. "He can't climb up there anymore, so he's in the medicine cat den." Windwind led them around the back of the tree trunk. There, nestled in thick roots was an opening slightly under the trunk. Stone and roots held the den open safety, and inside the tell-tale smell of herbs lingered.

"Wait here. I'll let him know." Whitewind asked, before disappearing into the black hole. Voices wafted up from inside. Keasong glanced at Rowanfall. He was looking around the camp with interest, eyes observant and mildly curious.

"It's nice enough, but I don't think I could live here." Keasong commented in a light, soft voice.

"Too smelly?" Rowanfall questioned in an equal tone, crinkling his nose.

"A bit." She chuckled in return. It was a swamp alright. "And wet." The forest could be damp too, but not like this. Rowanfall shifted his paws in the earth and made a face, causing her to laugh quietly again.

"He'll see you now." Whitewind's tone and narrowed eyes as he reappeared told the pair he'd probably overheard them criticizing his home. "He's having a good day… but if Thunderstream tells you to leave, you get out, got it?"


	29. Chapter 27

"Oh, it's the cocky little shit of an exile is it?" Swallowstar's croaking voice greeted them inside the den, almost sounding like he was laughing. It was dark inside, and the smell of herbs and bark and damp soil was almost overpowering. Looming behind the nest where Swallowstar lay, Marshclan's menacing medicine cat leered at them with pale eyes. She really didn't look like a medicine cat. More like one of Icestar's brutish rogues.

Swallowstar was painfully thin; his pelt untidy and tangled and dirty. "And who are you?" Rheumy eyes turned to Keasong as his breath was audibly rasping; chest seeming to heave with every breath. He really looked like he was on his way to Starclan.

"Keasong, sir. Flamestar sent me to speak with you."

"Keasong, eh?" Swallowstar said, voice as critical as his gaze. She felt uncomfortable under it. The tabby had never liked the Marshclan leader. "Very well. What does bloody Flamestar want then?" She noticed him working a long white feather between his paws in the nest.

"He wants to know if he can still count on Marshclan as an ally against Gorseclan and the rogues."

"Yes, yes! My clan wants Icestar and his dogdung filth dead for all they've done. We won't rest till we see it through!" Swallowstar hissed impatiently. "Surely, he didn't send you _just_ for that, what else?"

"Um." Keasong was a little thrown off by the brusque response and fiery attitude despite the state of him. "He's also sent a cat to Fieldclan to find out what happened to them, and he'd like to meet soon in person with both Marshclan and Fieldclan to discuss what comes next."

"Sure. He can swing by in a couple of nights if he'd like. It will be _lovely_ ; we'll all eat bellbird!" Swallowstar spat, leaving Keasong unsure how sarcastic he was being. "If I'm still alive by then, that is! ...And I suppose he wants to know who's replaced Bluewind then, eh? And by extension _replaces me_ when I finally go to Starclan. Wants to know what he'll be dealing with?"

"…Yes."

"Bogclaw." The black and white tom grunted. "Good cat. A little small, but the clan likes him, and he's got a bit of brain by some miracle unlike half of these dullards! I'd have preferred Tuatatatail but the fool doesn't want it. I asked him before Bluewind, you know." Bogclaw… he was the tiny white tom that had agreed to not fight over the river border that day. "Bogclaw will be a good leader at least." He was fiddling with that feather with a paw again, it almost looked like a nervous or unsure tic, but Swallowstar never seemed the type to feel unsure…

"There's one more thing." Rowanfall spoke up, moving forward from where he'd been lingering behind Keasong. "It's a personal question; nothing to do with Flamestar."

Swallowstar lifted his head from the feather and leered at him. "Spit it out then."

"Is Finchstar your daughter?"

Swallowstar stared. Keasong stared, mouth slightly agape. She was shocked; both at the question, and the blunt way Rowanfall had just come out and asked it. Where in the Dark Forest had that come from?!

The old leader spluttered a moment, causing a coughing fit. The medicine cat eyed him but didn't move forward to help him. Sure enough, it quickly passed. "I don't like you." Swallowstar managed finally.

"I get that a lot." Rowanfall returned dryly. "It's true then?"

"Ah, why not? Might as well say something on my deathbed, eh? Why not to cats from another clan?" The elder leader seemed to be talking to himself; he then shook his head slightly. "…Only Starclan knows for certain." Swallowstar rasped, voice sad. "Litters can have multiple fathers, but I'm certain Finchstar and Drakewing are mine. They look like _me_. _She_ wasn't black and white. _He_ isn't either." The "he" was growled with venom far stronger than the "she". "I've never said anything; how'd you know?"

"A hunch. I've always been observant at gatherings." Rowanfall looked rather pleased with himself. She knew he liked knowing he was right. And _knowing,_ in general. "That, and you always seemed softer with her. Softer on Gustclan."

"Heh... I'm sure you're not the only one with suspicions. Any cat in my clan old enough might do. They know she went off with Rattail. They know she gave birth to three kits not all that long after, and two were black and white." Swallowstar lay his head down on his paws, the feather positioned under his chin. "It doesn't matter anymore anyway…"

"Do you think they know; Finchstar and Drakewing?" Keasong found herself asking. The yellow eye that flicked her way made her flinch slightly, but Swallowstar did reply.

"I don't know. Maybe. They've never said anything. I never said anything. They grew up with Rattail as their father, and I left it at that." The elderly tom heaved a great rattling sigh and shut his eyes. "It's all academic anyway… they're probably gone."

"They're not." Rowanfall answered. "I scented them up by Starfalls only a couple of nights ago. Fresh scent." This got Swallowstar's attention back, but when he opened his eyes again, they had a glazed sort of look. Blank and staring. "They're alive." Rowanfall repeated, looking a little unsure.

"Lies." Swallowstar murmured quietly, looking quite unfocused. His breathes were more rapid than before. He tucked his head down into his paws, screwing his eyes shut like he was in pain.

Thunderstream was paying more attention now, after sitting there in silence for the entire conversation. "You two should go." She rumbled with a voice like her namesake. "Swallowstar needs to rest." The tortoiseshell moved in front of Swallowstar's nest to emphasize her point.

"Yes, of course. I'll pass on what he said to Flamestar… thank him for me when he's… better, won't you?" Keasong replied gently. Thunderstream huffed an affirmation. She caught Rowanfall as he turned to leave.

"To be honest, he doesn't have much longer. A few days. Quarter of a moon… It's hard to say, but not long. His body is just giving out on him, and his mind with it." Thunderstream was frank. "If you really know where Finchstar and Drakewing are… I think that he needs to see them before he passes on." Her gaze was firm. "Have whatever ulterior motives you want, but it would do his soul a world of good." Rowanfall simply nodded and followed Keasong out of the dank den.

...

"So, what was all that about?" Keasong found herself asking after Windwind had escorted them to the border and left them behind.

"A few things." Rowanfall replied slowly as he carefully crossed the cold river's waters. The fog had lifted while they were speaking with Swallowstar. It looked like it would shape up to be an okay leafbare day. "It was something I'd had my suspicions about since I heard the story about what happened to Swallowstar's old mate, and then seeing how similar they looked and how much easier he went on Finchstar at gatherings… I could put two and two together. I wanted to satisfy that hunch."

Keasong had heard the story, of course; discussed between elders in hushed tones. It was about the only time she'd ever felt sorry for the cranky, proud Marshclan leader. Except perhaps now he was slowly dying.

"Also, I figured at best, bringing them together could be useful for our endeavors. Thunderstream seemed to think he needs to see them. Marshclan will owe us for doing a favor for their dying leader. I also think we might be able to lure Finchstar and the other hiding Gustclan cats back into joining the fight. Any help counts, and another cat with extra lives would be really useful." He had a point, though she always hated thinking of helping other cats in the manner of what it could do for her. "At worst, I was thinking we could use the information as leverage if Swallowstar refused to cooperate. Thankfully, that wasn't needed."

Blackmailing a dying cat really, _really_ didn't sit right with her, so she was glad it hadn't come to that!

Rowanfall paused on the forests edge. "I'm going to head up to Starfalls and look for them now."

"Are you sure? It's been a long morning, you should rest and get something to eat at camp first." Keasong said.

"I feel fine, and no time like the present." He responded briskly, bushy tail held high. "And don't ask to come with me." He stopped the question before she could ask it. "More than one cat will scare that lot even more. I'm hoping if I sit around with Moonfall for a while and seem no threat they might show themselves."

She didn't like it, but he was right. Two cats would be more intimidating to the spooked Gustclan runaways. "Okay then, be safe."

"Aren't I always?" She made a face, thinking of the state he was in when she'd found him in their territory. He laughed. "Don't answer that."


	30. Chapter 28

Snowpaw hovered anxiously outside the medicine cat den. Heronlegs wanted to speak with her, but she needed to talk to Murkstar first. Her long tail swept across the ground, brushing some of her pale hairs away. She was losing coat like she was molting for the warmer seasons early. Stress-shedding. Blegh. Maybe she needed to take Lakegaze up on that offer to chat sometime.

It was hard not to strain her ears to eavesdrop. She wasn't the only one either. Passing cats swiveled their head and ears towards the den entrance, hoping to catch a snippet of conversation. They were all grieving, on edge and wanted to know what was going to happen now.

"-you're not listening Heronlegs!" Murkstar's voice was sharp, tinged with upset and anger. He had to be taking this hard. Heronlegs hated being snapped at, Snowpaw knew, but she was sure her mentor could forgive the leader this once.

"I am listening, but-" The she-cat's voice came, softer than Murkstar's. Hesitant.

"You clearly aren't! I'm giving you an order. My last as your leader."

"Sir, Murkstar… You're still-"

"We aren't Marshclan, dammit! I won't have my clan flail about without functional leader like they do! Right now, Fieldclan needs a strong, _capable_ cat at the helm. I can't be that for them anymore."

Snowpaw looked down at her paws with a quiet sigh. Murkstar would never walk properly again. He couldn't hunt. He couldn't fight. He couldn't be a functional leader when he could barely drag himself across camp. The conclusion was inevitable.

He'd have to retire.

It wasn't as simple as saying he was stepping down, Snowpaw had found out. She'd happened to hear Deerspot and Houndleg discussing it. Normally, a retiring leader would travel to Starfalls to surrender their remaining extra lives, if they had any. The next leader couldn't get their full extra eight lives if another cat in the clan held some. Murkstar still had plenty he needed to surrender.

But he couldn't get out of camp unless carried on the backs of other cats. Making the trek to Starfalls bordered on impossible, and Murkstar was still healing. He was in no state to be hauled all over the place.

"Deerspot thinks we can still do it, properly." Murkstar's voice had dropped, becoming more gently insistent. "I'll sleep out under the stars with her and hope they come to us."

There was a long pause. "I don't know if I'm ready… you're still so young… I thought..."

"You'd have more time." Murkstar finished for Heronlegs. "I've made my peace as much as I can… I know it's not fair to ask of you so suddenly, but I know you can do it. I chose you as my deputy knowing you could be a leader." He chuckled, a shadow of his old humor. "A better one than me, in all likelihood."

Snowpaw couldn't listen in anymore. She got to her paws and padded over to where Kiwifeather and Bushtail were sharing tongues and eating. She could keep her eye out for Heronlegs when she left the den from here fine.

"You okay?" Kiwifeather asked as Snowpaw flopped down next to them. She easily dwarfed the small Kiwifeather in size now. The brown she-cat didn't have her usual pep about her, but she was perhaps doing better than others. She was a thorough optimist, after all.

"Not really." Snowpaw huffed, causing Kiwifeather to give her a quick lick. "But I will be, I guess."

"We all will be. Once Icestar and his goons are dealt with, things can finally go back to normal." Bushtail replied calmly between mouthfuls of his sparrow. Normal, huh? Snowpaw had barely gotten to know Fieldclan's normal before everything kicked into this madness. She couldn't remember the last time the biggest thing to worry about had been not messing up with her training with Heronlegs.

Speak of the Dark Forest denizen… it was only what seemed like moments later that the tall she-cat emerged from the medicine cat den. Blue eyes found blue eyes. "Gotta go." She mumbled to the other two as she stood, paws feeling heavy despite the fact she'd done little physical work so far today.

Heronlegs wasted no time as Snowpaw reached her. "You know about the tradition that all apprentices must journey to Starfalls before becoming a warrior?"

"…Yes?"

"You'll be coming with me. As soon as Starclan visits Murkstar and removes his remaining extra lives, we will make the trek. We can't waste any time. You must be prepared at any moment, you understand?" Heronlegs was clearly unhappy about all this, and tense. Not that she would ever say no to this, but Snowpaw imagined if she did, it would not be well received.

"I understand Heronlegs." The older she-cat nodded stiffly to her apprentice, before vanishing back into the medicine cat den. Snowpaw turned to leave with a sigh, but Heronlegs voice called her back.

"I didn't say you were dismissed Snowpaw, come here!" Ugh, she was going to get her paws in a tangle with all this back and forth!

Snowpaw slunk into the den beneath the large tangled bush at the base of a huge pine. Murkstar was in the first nest near the front. It was plain and undecorated, as all the nursing nests were. Deerspot and Lakegaze had their nests at the very back. They had different flowering herbs lining their bedding material, creating a lovely smell. Deerspot in particular seemed to enjoy lavender.

"Snowpaw." Murkstar greeted, his large tufted ears perking as she entered. He was making an effort to look bright. A healing mixture with flax holding it down covered the spot where he'd been shot on his back. "I believe I owe you my gratitude."

Snowpaw ducked her head.

"You were very brave, good ingenuity as I hear it… Putting us clan cats to shame again!"

"You shouldn't be praising her for that Murkstar! It was reckless; it could have backfired and gotten her killed. And she disobeyed a direct order for that matter." Heronlegs butted in, her ears flat. She'd been scolding Snowpaw almost daily since.

"It _was_ reckless, but it still doesn't change the fact I'm likely only here because of what she did. So, I'm thanking her anyway." He replied stubbornly.

"Just let him have this one Heronlegs." Deerspot yelled from the back of the den where she was preparing herbs.

"I'm sure you've already punished her accordingly?" The dark tabby continued slyly. Heronlegs let out a long, hissing breath between her teeth. Grudging acceptance. "Fabulous. Then it's no problem."

Snowpaw had the good sense to look grateful and say nothing.

"There is another reason I wanted to speak with you, Snowpaw." Murkstar continued, and so the young cat perked up again. "Did you understand anything the twolegs said? Anything that may be helpful for understanding why they did what they did?"

Snowpaw wished she could give the leader the answer he wanted. Provide him with answers. With a reason for this. But she had to shake her head. "I'm sorry Murkstar… I only understand a bit of their language from my time with them. All I got from what they were saying were a couple of words. Nothing helpful…"

Murkstar couldn't hide the flash of disappointment. "I see. Thank you anyway, Snowpaw. Heronlegs tells me she'll take you with her to Starfalls. You'll find it impressive I'm sure, and it's a great rite of passage. After that, you can be made a warrior." He gave her a kindly, proud look, but it was tinged with sadness. "You deserve it, kittypet."

Snowpaw felt her heart clench a little, a heavy emotion settling in her guts. There was a sense of finality in the air. "Thank you Murkstar."

"A shame I won't be the one to give you your warrior name… I've had a good one in mind for moons. I'll have to see if Heronlegs will take my idea for it on board." He winked towards his deputy, who rolled her eyes. "Ah, but now, it's time for my final announcement as a leader... Would you lovely ladies escort me to the Pine Pile?"


	31. Chapter 29

Keasong found herself heading back across the river only a night's sleep after going to see Swallowstar. This time though, it wasn't on behalf of her leader. It was for the dying Marshclan one.

Rowanfall had reappeared around sunrise. He'd been gone all yesterday, including the night. Apparently, it had taken almost that long to track down the Gustclan cats. Keasong had been keeping Flamestar in the loop, so he stopped by the camp first. The Gustclan cats were nowhere in sight. Too scared to come into the camp.

"I'll give them one thing, they're damn good at hiding." Rowanfall had said with an almost impressed expression. "Maybe we could get them to hide all of us instead of fighting Icestar." He was clearly joking when he said it, but Earthshatter, who had been listening in with Flamestar, had muttered that maybe it was a viable plan B. Or… whatever letter they were up to at this point.

Flamestar had accompanied Rowanfall and herself out to meet the Gustclan cats. Even three cats at once made the four skittish, and only Rowanfall's gentle convincing and Flamestar's calm authority stopped them from fleeing. When Flamestar had addressed Finchstar, the young leader had simply said "I wish everyone would stop calling me that. I'm not a leader anymore…" Deep scars on her throat stood out against white fur.

Now, Keasong was leading a tired Rowanfall and four thin, hesitant Gustclan cats across the border to see Swallowstar. Only Finchstar and Drakewing were actually needed, but Rockfang; who had been training as a medicine cat after being a warrior, and Rattail, an elder, had been too nervous about staying alone. They'd also refused to stay in Fernclan's camp. Rattail especially didn't want Finchstar and Drakewing out of his sight, even though he really needed to spend time in a medicine cat den. Like Swallowstar, he was frail and ill, though not yet as far gone as the leader.

This was the cat that everyone thought was Finchstar and Drakewing's father. Rowanfall had already broken the news. He'd taken it better than anyone would have thought. He knew, it seemed. He said he still loved them both as much as his trueborn daughter. As far as he was concerned, they would always be his kits.

Finchstar and Drakewing also had been surprised, Rowanfall said, but not as much as expected. Not as horrified or shocked or angry as he anticipated. They'd always wondered, especially when their mother had told them she'd once come from Marshclan and been Swallowstar's mate, some moons after they'd become warriors.

In the end, they all had something they needed to say before Swallowstar passed.

Rowanfall waited with the Gustclan cats while Keasong went ahead to let Marshclan know they were coming. The infamous Lightningpaw was first to spot her. "Intruder! I _ntruder_!" The loud apprentice yowled at the top of her lungs.

"Starclan, would someone shut up that _obnoxious yellow idiot_. It's just the damn Fernclan cats again!" A spotted tabby screeched from her spot outside the elder's den. A warrior tried to sooth her, but she kept ranting. "Day in, day out with the little turd; I'm sick of it! I'm telling you, I'll teach her some manners; one smack upside the head will do it!"

Keasong couldn't help a little chuckle at the interaction as she passed by towards the medicine cat den. Grumpy elders were a thing universal no matter the clan, it seemed!

Thunderstream was there to meet them at the entrance. Her eyes roved over the Gustclan cats, who kept their bodies low to the ground and ears flat, fur on edge. She snorted in a dismissive kind of way before addressing Rowanfall and Keasong. "I'm glad you came back so soon. He got a lot worse last night. I'm doing what I can, but herbs only help a little in these cases… I think his body won't hold together much longer." When Keasong focused her hearing towards the den entrance, she could actually hear Swallowstar's rasping, shuddering breath from here.

"What's the state of his mind?" Rowanfall asked quietly. "Is he even going to realize they're here?"

"It's so-so." The big she-cat grunted. "If he reacts too poorly we may have to call it a wash. Those two should stay up here." Thunderstream jerked her head towards Rattail and Rockfang, narrowing her eyes at the elder particularly. " _Especially_ that one."

Keasong could completely understand her reasoning. Rattail was the cat that had run off to Gustclan with Swallowstar's former mate in the first place. Swallowstar had to hate him.

But to her surprised, the skinny elder moved forward and spoke up. "If he's well enough after seeing them, I'd like to speak with him too. It's why I came all this way and made every one of my old bones hurt." Rattail said in a croaky voice. "I'm going to meet Starclan myself, sooner or later… I need to atone with him; say my piece and let him say his."

Thunderstream looked at him suspiciously. "Fine, if he'll allow it… but you are going to let me give you some herbs too before you leave, old timer." Gruff as she was, she was still a medicine cat.

"Could you talk to me about what you are going to give him?" Rockfang asked, a little hesitant. "I've been trying to help as best I can, but Fallheart didn't teach me much about elder care before…" Thunderstream grunted her acceptance. Keasong, Rowanfall, Finchstar and Drakewing left the trio behind and moved back into the hole under the willow.

Swallowstar looked asleep, for a moment. His head lay on his paws; the white feather he seemed to hold dear tucked under them. His chest heaved with every labored breath that was audible easily within the dark den. But his eyes were open. Pale yellow and slightly glassy, they seemed to stare at something far beyond what they could see.

Keasong let out a little greeting meow, and some light returned to Swallowstar. The ancient tom turned his silver muzzle toward them. There was a long stare, a furrowed brow, like he was trying to remember them. He then huffed. "You lot again? I thought I made myself _clear_ ; or is Flamestar loosing his mind now too?" Good, he remembered some of yesterday at least.

"We've brought someone to see you, Swallowstar." She told him gently, allowing Finchstar and Drakewing to move forward, while she and Rowanfall melded into the background. This was now for the family. They only remained in case something went wrong.

Swallowstar's eyes went wide, and his mouth fell open a little as he lifted his head. Keasong could see yellowed, broken teeth inside his jaws. "You're alive…" He whispered with a harsh sound beneath the words.

"Yes, somehow…" Finchstar replied softly. She was clearly uncomfortable and unsure. She sat with her tail wrapped around her paws.

"We've come to see you." Drakewing, with his unique, slightly curly fur, spoke up from beside her. He sat so close to his sister that their pelts, so similar to Swallowstar's in colour and marking, were touching. He looked a bit calmer than his sister, though still not entirely at ease.

"My kits." Swallowstar rasped urgently, struggling to prop himself up on his forequarters. "I have to tell you before… Oh, my beautiful kits." Drakewing and Finchstar exchanged hesitant glances. Keasong could understand how they may be feeling. This was probably very awkward for them, and confusing emotionally. They had lived their whole lives apart from their blood father and grown up with Rattail as their parent.

"I have to… need to tell you both." The elderly leader continued, either unaware of or ignoring the pair's doubt. "That I'm proud of you. Even if it means nothing to you… I'm proud. You're fine warriors."

"I'm not so sure about that…" Finchstar whispered. After loosing their whole clan like that, how must they feel about being warriors?

Swallowstar shook his head slightly, his eyes shutting tightly; overcome with emotion. "I've made so many mistakes. I wasn't always a good leader or a good cat. Bitterness twisted me up into a cranky, senseless old fool… Starclan will judge me now." His voice was soft and pained. Keasong almost went to get Thunderstream, unsure if he was in physical distress, but Rowanfall lifted his tail to hold her in place.

"But you two were not one of those mistakes. Loving your mother… loving Lightsky; it wasn't one of them. I'd love her still, even knowing how it would all turn out. But then, I'd be better to her. Maybe if I paid her more mind…" When the tom opened his eyes again, they had that faraway look once more, like he was seeing an old memory. "I'm sorry, to both of you. I never said anything."

"We…" Drakewing glanced at his sister, then back to Swallowstar. "We should have said something too."

"Ah well, I've had some practice apologizing now…" Swallowstar sighed wearily. He was likely waning quickly. "Though, I've been thinking what I'll say to her for moons. I've still not found the words." He fell silent for a moment before looking back at his kits, eyeing Drakewing particularly. "You have her coat, but not her colour… She was so beautiful…"

"She was." Drakewing agreed gently. "It was our colour that made us wonder, after she told us about you… I mean, neither of us really look like her, or Rattail."

The name of the elder was met with bared teeth and a weak hiss from Swallowstar.

"He wants to speak with you too, Swallowstar. If you'll allow it." Finchstar mentioned slowly.

"I won't see that _rogue_!" The tom spat with as much poison as his weak voice could muster. "He better not be here in _my_ camp! He _left_ countless moons ago with Lightsky! He made his choice!"

"He wants to have a heart to heart with you! Give him a chance?" Drakewing insisted.

"Never! He shouldn't have been given his _first_ damn chance." The black and white tom's dirty fur bristled as he hunched up in his nest, eyes unfocused with rage. His claws clenched into the feather beneath them. Was Swallowstar referring to how Rattail was allowed to join Marshclan in the first place?

"Please, Swallowstar! For us?" Finchstar mewed desperately. "He doesn't have much longer left either you know! You should both make peace!"

"He was _my best friend_ , and he ran off with _my mate_!" Swallowstar screeched suddenly, trying to stand in his nest in a violent movement before collapsing in a heap. Keasong took a step back in shock. His sides heaved, his eyes bulging with hatred, betrayal and sorrow that had not faded in a generation. "I'd willingly go to the Dark Forest before I see that traitor!"

"What's going on down here?" Thunderstream's deep meow sounded from behind where Keasong and Rowanfall stood. She must have heard Swallowstar yowling and carrying on. Taking in the spluttering leader, his breaths almost choking with agitation, she pushed her way to him.

"G-get-" Swallowstar snarled between sharp breaths. He seemed to be struggling to take in air. His limbs stretched out, claws grasping. "Get out!"

Thunderstream firmly enforced Swallowstar's order, all but shoving his kits away from his side after they had moved closer with concern. "You all need to leave. See Bogclaw on your way out."


	32. Chapter 30

Swallowstar died the next night. In the end, the only cat he asked for was Lightsky, like he'd lost all the moons of time since they'd separated. Or perhaps he was preparing to meet her instead.

Bogclaw himself brought the news the morning after; Lightningpaw in tow. They'd be making their journey to Starfalls after stopping into the Fernclan camp. He spent a long time talking in Flamestar's den. Finchstar was with them. The Gustclan cats had chosen to stay in the Fernclan camp, for now. Rattail needed proper care, and it seemed that they agreed they were probably safer with a larger group around them. Fernclan was largely welcoming, though there was some grumbling about mouth to feed. Fortunately, this leafbare had been kind to them in that department so far.

Rattail was feeble and slept in the medicine cat den. It almost seemed like Swallowstar's rejection of his desire to make amends had knocked even more time from the elder's life.

Swallowstar had been too consumed by his hatred to give it up, even before death… It made her worry about Rowanfall, who's deep hatred for Icestar was no secret…

Keasong slipped out of camp shortly after they left to hunt, but in the end, she found herself sitting on the edge of a glade to the south; weak leafbare sun streaming in through the leaves above. She took deep breaths, inhaling the soft forest scents and cool air. She watched the prey creatures and insects go about their lives from a distance. She could have caught them, but she didn't. Sparrows chattered to each other; silvereyes flittered about in the branches like green jewels.

Sometimes, when Keasong needed peace and quiet, or to think, this was what she did. Supposedly Fernstar herself liked prey-watching; simply _being_ in the peace of the forest. It was a rather unique past time to Fernclan.

After what seemed like an age, loud rustling too big for a smaller creature caused her to look back. It was Rowanfall who melted through the brush and joined her. He sat down delicately in the leaf litter; some of which blended well with his red pelt.

He didn't say anything at first. Keasong blinked a greeting, and they simply sat and watched and listened and breathed with the forest. His bushy tail brushed against her paws as he swept it across the ground to curl loosely around his own feet. Even now it still sent a little thrill up her spine.

The tabby shut her eyes, and simply _was_. It was quite nice and meditative after all the chaos of these past moons. Starclan, she needed to come out here more often.

Eventually, he spoke. "Sparrowcrest told me you might be here."

"Did she now?" Keasong replied serenely. She hadn't opened her eyes yet. "Grudgingly?"

"A touch. I think she's getting over it." Rowanfall's voice was light as a feather, a tinkle of amusement running underneath. Here and now, where her mind was calm, and it seemed like her senses were heightened, his voice sounded like the sweetest tui song. "I can't hold it against her… she just cares about you a lot."

Keasong hummed, working her toes in the soft, slightly damp leaves at her paws. Sometimes she wondered with Sparrowcrest… it was a talk they'd have to have at some point. Maybe when all this madness was over. For now, she didn't want to worry over it. Right now, in this place and moment, all was right with the world.

"Bogclaw will probably be at Starfalls soon." Rowanfall said, almost phrased like a question. Keasong was quick to stop the talk with her tail lifting to hold it in front his mouth.

"Uh-uh. No talking about anything like that here." She scolded softly, opening one eye to look at him out of the corner of it. "No politics, no fighting, no _stress_." She could think about how Swallowstar had died with anger in his heart (and how she feared Rowanfall's own would hurt him), how Rattail had never gotten to speak with him, how Finchstar and Drakewing's last and first honest moment with their blood father had ended with him screeching at them to leave. How Icestar could strike at any moment… But for once, she didn't want to think about those things. Here, it could melt away.

"Those are the rules?" He asked, laughter in his voice as he gently pushed his tail away from his face with a paw.

"Yep. Happy thoughts only."

"Pedantic." The word of sass held no true bite. "Well, far be it from _me_ to break the rules." He flashed her a knowing, cheeky sort of look, and she snorted, looking away again.

They were quiet for a while again. A brave blackbird fluttered down onto the forest floor a short distance away from them; foraging in the leaf litter. It tossed leaves vigorously in the air on its search for worms. The animals the cats considered prey were just trying to live like the rest of them.

"I knew I was right." Keasong spoke up as the bird tugged on a particularly stubborn worm.

"Hmm?"

"I told everyone you weren't really as grumpy and rude as you seemed. You've been… a lot more… I don't know? _Happier_? Lately." Somehow, despite all the worries they had, it was true. She'd never seen him like this before.

"Well, even _I_ have my golden moments." Rowanfall glanced down at his paws, let out a funny little breath, and kept talking. "It's probably because of you, really."

Keasong looked to him. "Huh?"

"Well I mean!" The tom started, seeming suddenly flustered. "It's not just you, Fernclan have been like, weirdly accepting and that's been nice? But… It's like, you give off this… energy and- and you were always there and standing up for me like this _annoying leech_ and yet-" He huffed, ears angling backward. "I'm not explaining this well."

"It's fine!" Keasong chuckled. "I think I understand what you mean."

"Ugh." Rowanfall shook his head, great ruff of hair on his neck flicking about. His fur was even thicker than usual with the cold weather. Sometimes the short-pelted Keasong was very jealous of his coat. "I think I almost preferred when things were simple, and you just assaulted me at gatherings and called me stupid names!"

Keasong playfully lifted a forepaw and bopped the tom on the top of the head. "I can keep doing those things if you want, mousebrain." Green eyes flashed cheekily. "If I recall, I used to always _win_ too. You could use being taken down a peg or two now and then after all; you _cocky little shit_." And so, Swallowstar lived on though his insults. It was probably what he would have wanted.

" _Please_." He dared, body tensing under her paw. She could tell what was coming.

The two young cats erupted into action at the same time. Keasong leapt away as Rowanfall pounced at her. The blackbird let out a furious alarm call as it took wing. Leaves scattered everywhere while the two cats rolled about, batting at each other with clawless blows with squeals and playful growls and laughter.

When was the last time the two cats, barely past being apprentices in the grand scheme of things, had really gotten a chance to _play_? Keasong played the clan kits a lot, but it wasn't the same as a mock brawl with a peer. Sparrowcrest and Lionmane didn't want to play anymore. And Rowanfall… How much had he _ever_ played? Gorseclan always seemed like a bit of a miserable and serious clan! How much fun were apprentices allowed to have?

Eventually, Keasong pinned him, though she had a suspicion he let her. He was much stronger than her now, more so than he had been when they were apprentices (and back then, she usually caught him off guard). "I win!" She declared with bright triumph, sticking her tongue out at him.

"I suppose you do." He stared at her, then made a face and easily battered her off with a paw, and she rolled over onto the ground next to him. They both just lay there for a beat, breathing heavily from the exertion of their game.

"Hey Keasong?" She could feel his eyes on her as she looked skyward.

"Mmm?"

"You know what you said before… about, um… How you felt? About me?"

"Yep."

"Do you still?"

"Yeah…" It was suddenly strangely easy to admit.

"Hah." Rowanfall looked up with her, his voice was very soft. Above the pair, bright green leaves were illuminated with sunlight and blue sky lay beyond. "Same."

It took a lot of willpower to remain nonchalant as she took that in. "Well how about that." She'd say "I knew it" for the sake of the humour, but she had never really been sure…

Silence. The blackbird had finally stopped its alarm call. "This was surprisingly easy." Rowanfall sounded quite surprised, maybe a little disbelieving. Keasong knew what he meant. How long had she fretted over her feelings, all for it to be "resolved" in a few words? Easy words at that!

"I know right!" She agreed enthusiastically.

"All this time, and this was the whole conversation."

"Starclan, we're so _stupid_!"

"Don't lump me in with you."

Keasong rolled over and shoved her head in his ruff as if to block out the snark. "Can you just shut up and let me have this?"

A bushy tail shifted to wind with hers as a low chuckle came from Rowanfall. "… Fine."


	33. Chapter 31

Murkstar had slept out under the stars with Deerspot for three nights before Starclan finally came to him. And when the clan woke up, he said it was done. His extra lives were gone. Murkstar returned to being Murkstripe, and he took up his new place in the elders den. Houndleg at least had company now. It was about the only thing you could call something good to come out of this.

Heronlegs wasted no time. "We need to go to Starfalls now." She found Snowpaw in the crowd of the clan who had gathered to listen to Murkstripe's announcement that morning. "Lakegaze already has the travelling herbs prepared; there's no time for you to eat anything." Heronlegs herself of course, could not eat; it was against tradition.

The herbs were foul, but Snowpaw knew she would be grateful for them later. Heronlegs was on edge and impatient. She paced the medicine cat den as Snowpaw ate hers. "Is anyone else coming?" The apprentice asked.

"No." Her mentors reply was quick and blunt. "We need as many cats to stay here as possible." For Icestar and the rogue threat, of course…

She was ushered out of the camp before the crowd had even dispersed from around Murkstripe, lacking time to even say goodbye. Heronlegs' sense of a tense urgency was clear in every clipped step. Snowpaw still had trouble keeping up with her swift mentor at speed, and so she lagged about a catlength or so behind.

Ordinarily, Snowpaw would be asking more questions, but she got the feeling they wouldn't be as tolerated as usual. Still, one nagged at her till she said it, as they neared the Marshclan border. "What happens at Starfalls, exactly?"

Heronlegs fixed her with one eye over her shoulder, and she shrunk a little. The blue-grey she-cat sighed. "There's a large waterfall there." She explained, slowing her pace to a gentle trot. "I will sleep on a stone in the pool at its end tonight, and Starclan will call me to them in my dreams. There, I will receive 8 extra lives. I don't know any other details. It's not something leaders talk about."

Snowpaw pondered what her mentor told her. She tried to imagine the waterfall, but she had never seen a real one before. Only tiny miniature versions falling across an incline in the ground after heavy rain.

"Snowpaw?" Heronlegs was still looking at her. "I'm sorry for being short with you… I'm just… stressed. This is a lot to deal with."

Snowpaw purred reassuringly. "Its okay, I understand." She didn't really; she couldn't, not being in Heronlegs' position, but she could imagine and sympathize…

"You're a terribly understanding cat considering you started out at 7 moons knowing less than a kit that just opened its eyes." The older she-cat replied with a little laugh. She brushed her tail on Snowpaw's shoulder. "Come on, we're burning daylight."

…..

After moving delicately around Marshclan territory though the strangely empty twoleg area (Snowpaw stopped to show Heronlegs the tree she had lived in for a moon) the pair climbed up Steep Rise, and reached its top. Snowpaw was panting as she looked out over the vista before her. Trees and fields sloping downhill into a plain, a winding river that stretched to the end of the horizon. Twoleg dens, far beyond. More than Snowpaw could count.

Heronlegs noted her staring at them. "Do you think that's where you came from?" She asked quietly.

"Probably. The twolegs that left me here… we didn't spend that long in the monster, and they run fast." She replied in a hushed tone, unsure how to feel. She found herself laughing. "All that time I was waiting around not knowing what to do, and I would have seen home if I had just come over this hill." Ah, the irony.

She could feel Heronlegs' eyes on her. "Not that I probably would have been able to find my housefolk's den in all that." There were so so many, and Snowpaw wouldn't have had a clue where to start. Besides, it was an awful long way just to get there, and back then, she was 6 moons and had no idea how to take care of herself. The spotted she-cat turned and noted the look on Heronlegs' face. "Relax!" She laughed. "I'd never want to go back now! I just thought it was funny it was right there this whole time."

Looking just slightly relieved, Heronlegs flicked her tail and beckoned her apprentice down the steep slope and towards the waterfall. Snowpaw could already hear it thundering in the distance, an unfamiliar sound.

Just about stumbling and falling halfway down in the slippery grass and uneven soil, they made it to the bottom. Large green trees surrounded the area along the top of the waterfall, following it to the river below.

Heronlegs stretched. "We've got some time before nightfall." The tall cat looked around. "Moonfall should be around somewhere… You're free to find something to eat for now, Snowpaw. Just don't hunt near the waterfall."

"Okay!" She was starving after the long walk and not eating since last night. The she-cat raked her gaze over the landscape, trying to decide where to go. Snowpaw glanced back at Heronlegs, who had settled down on the grass. "Are you sure you can't eat anything?"

"It is forbidden when speaking with Starclan, I'm afraid." Heronlegs put on something of a joking grimace. "Now go on. Get fed."

So Snowpaw went. As it turned out, even in leafbare the forest, scrub and field surrounding Starfalls was verdant and lush with prey. Almost as if a peek of Starclan's grand hunting grounds came through the waterfall to the other side. She ate a mouse she killed quickly to push down her panging hunger, and then caught a fat quail for good measure to take back to Starfalls with her.

Bleak sunlight had almost totally slipped behind the mountains by the time she returned. Heronlegs was still sitting in the exact same place, her eyes shut. Was she sleeping sitting up? Or just resting her eyes? Snowpaw had noticed how tired her mentor had been looking over the last few days. Not even Waspsting seemed to be able to offer her much solace. The older she-cat was very good at remaining in control, calm… but internally, Snowpaw had to wonder just how hard it had all hit her.

Curious as she was about the state of her mentor, she didn't notice a second cat, sitting still as Heronlegs under a nearby tree. It was as she crouched down to much on her quail, deciding not to disturb Heronlegs right now if she was resting, that Snowpaw felt eyes on her back.

Turning with a mouthful of feathers, she spied the longhaired cat in the distance. This had to be the Moonfall everyone spoke of. The Guardian of Starfalls. She certainly had a slightly ethereal look about her; her eyes piercing. The apprentice felt uncomfortable under that gaze. The strange she-cat dipped her head in silent greeting. Snowpaw, slightly perplexed, returned the gesture and hesitantly went back to eating as Moonfall didn't budge any further.

It wasn't until the sky faded to black and the stars started coming out, moon hovering into the horizon, that either of the two older she-cats made a move.

"I apologize for not coming over to greet you both properly sooner." Moonfall's mew was like dew and honey, a slightly mysterious rasp beneath the melody. "But it appeared you needed the rest."

"I appreciated the chance to close my eyes." Heronlegs replied as she stretched out her long limbs, then yawned.

"These are trying times." Moonfall commented with a little hum. "Resting while one can is wise." Her long, fluffy tail brushed along the ground. "But I'm afraid, you will find no rest in your sleep tonight."

Snowpaw simply sat in silence, listening to the pair going back and forth. It was strange, how Moonfall seemed to already know why they were here without asking.

"I've heard the ceremony is testing…" Heronlegs glanced towards the waterfall.

"It is, but a true leader will come through unscathed in the end." The guardians voice held every confidence, like a cat who knew Heronlegs well.

Even Heronlegs herself seemed slightly unnerved by all this. Her tail tip was twitching in an agitated way. "Can Snowpaw join me at the base?"

"Of course, as long as she doesn't touch the water and watches from the edge." Moonfall glanced skyward. "The moon is nearly in position, you should make your way down shortly." And with that, the strange she-cat rose and began to pad away on graceful feet. "I'll speak with you further after it's over."

Heronlegs watched her go for a moment, the beckoned Snowpaw with a jerk of her head towards the waterfall. "Come." The apprentice noticed she was shaking a little. "Best not keep Starclan waiting…"

Snowpaw followed Heronlegs down the craggy boulders at the waterfall's side, noting the blue-grey she-cat's stiff steps. She could understand. Snowpaw herself was nervous, and she wasn't even doing anything! It was something about this place maybe. There was a strange feeling in the air, thick with the misty spray from the waterfall's base. Light from the moon and stars reflected off the water, and willow branches hung slightly over the pool at the bottom, and the river that trailed from it. An owl hooted somewhere nearby. It was beautiful.

"See that flat stone in the pool there?" Heronlegs flicked her tail towards a large flat rock in the water at the base of the waterfall, gently enveloped in the water vapour. "That's where I'll lay, and Starclan will call me to them, sending me to sleep so I can speak to them in my dreams."

Snowpaw stared. This place set her fur on end for some reason. "… You're going to get so wet." Was all she could say, voice a slight deadpan.

Heronlegs chuckled, with perhaps an undercurrent of nerves. She glanced up at the bright moon overhead. "I guess it's time. Stay here. You don't have to sleep, but just stay on the edge of the pool."

Snowpaw nodded, and the tall she-cat pounced from the bank onto the smooth stone. It was almost a worry she would slip, but then Heronlegs was sure of foot. Or maybe it was Starclan magic! At this point Snowpaw had no idea what they were or weren't capable of anymore.

She slipped to her hindquarters in an uneasy sit as Heronlegs curled up. The misty spray swirled around her mentor's form, glimmering with starlight. Snowpaw watched with wide blue eyes; mesmerized as Heronleg's own fluttered shut.

Short beats of time later, the blue-grey she-cat's breathing had slowed. She was asleep. The vapour around her seemed to settle a little.

And now all Snowpaw could do was wait.

Paw-sore from the walk here and then going hunting afterwards, and her full belly lulling her, Snowpaw eventually sank down and rested her head on her paws. The morepork owl kept hooting, but it had moved further into the distance. She could imagine night time here in the summer. It would probably be incredibly noisy with cicadas and crickets chirping and frogs croaking.

She took a few slow blinks and yawned. Resting her eyes for a moment couldn't hurt…


	34. Chapter 32

It was dark when she reopened them. Far darker than the pale light bathed forest and waterfall she'd just lay down in. The air was thick and hot, and Snowpaw's whiskers quivered from the humidity in the air.

All around her were strange plants she'd never seen before. They covered the sky and loomed oppressively in the darkness. Equally strange and unknown noises screeched and yowled and whooped in the far distance.

Where was she?

"Well, well, well… what do we have here?" A voice, deep and rolling and a little seductive, floated through the air. Snowpaw turned, and her mouth fell open a little at the creature that melted out of the dark plant life around her.

The creature was a cat, yet not. Snowpaw had never seen a cat like it, that was for sure. It was slightly smaller than her, though that was not unusual as many of her clanmates were. It was a slender animal; longer legs and sleek body. Snowpaw found herself staring at its feet, when she noticed it had webbed toes, like a frog! Its head was shaped different and the ears rounded. The big eyes seemed illuminated in the dark, like orbs of sunshine.

But it was the coat that really caught her attention. It was like hers! Big rosetted spots! There were a few differences, and the colour was different; a golden/brown hue, but for the first time since she left her mother, Snowpaw looked back at a cat (albeit a very strange one!) that looked like her.

The cat-not-cat was also slightly _transparent_. Snowpaw could see the foliage behind it faintly through its body. "Is… is this Starclan?" She finally found her voice, though it was barely above a whisper and trembling with something like awe. She was also very, very confused. A transparent cat with eyes that glowed could only be a place like Starclan, right? That or she was having one wild dream right now.

"Starclan?" The creature laughed; a thick, rich sound that made Snowpaw's spine tingle. She was fairly certain this one was female by the voice, but the scent (or lack thereof?) puzzled her. "No, little one. We may be neighbours now, thanks to you, but I walk a different sky. But it seems their sacred place helped connect you here..." Okay now she was even more confused. "Do you know who I am? Or, rather, _what_ I am?"

"You're…" Snowpaw considered the not-cat. There was this feeling that put her on edge around them. It was similar to when she first met the clan cats. The big, scary, feral, _wild_ cats. Unbidden, her memories flashed once again to her mother's stories of the foundation of their breed. Of their ancestry. "…You're a wild cat. A real one." She breathed softly.

"Correct." The cat purred, a thrum Snowpaw felt in her bones as it drew closer. It was like being in front of a member of LeopardClan, despite the far smaller size of this animal. "I'm different from all the cats you've ever met. I'm something untamed and primitive from a far off land… The burning wilderness hiding in your blood."

The wild cat got right up in Snowpaw's face. She leaned back, surprised. "What-?"

"There's no time. Tonight you've come and walked my jungle… my own patch of sky." A long ringed tail flicked back and forth with urgent agitation. "It's good, now I don't need to figure out how to come to you. I hear it in my heart, in my chest… a chorus of man-drums. Drums of war… A fight is coming to your little pride of cats, Snowpaw. Very soon, and with it a bloody sunrise." She lifted her nose skyward. Red and orange began to bleed into the dark sky through the trees above. Sunrise.

Snowpaw struggled to take in what the wild cat was saying and what was going on. "I don't understand… What do you mean? What are you trying to tell me?"

"I'm here to tell you to embrace what makes you different… _me_!" The cat cried, starting to pace around Snowpaw like she was a fine bit of fresh-kill. "Let your instincts instruct you when this battle comes. It will be me, guiding you through your blood. Don't let your head override it; the wild inside you, and you will be prosperous in this fight!"

"What fight?!" Snowpaw tried to seek clarification from the wild cat, but it seemed they were getting quite excited, and weren't listening properly.

"Ah, to taste sweet battle through you will be an exciting moment in this eternity of wandering and hunting! I'm so glad we've finally connected!"

"Wait-" Snowpaw's yowl broke off as it felt like the ground fell away from beneath her paws. Blackness surged up to meet her and she screeched.

….

"Snowpaw!" Heronlegs shook her awake. She was back in the cool forest by the waterfall, under a silvery sky with a far softer dawn rising. The humid, dark place was gone. A dream? Not like any dream she'd had before… She blinked several times. Heronlegs was standing over her, looking even more tired than before. There was a worried look on her face.

"What is it?" The question was broken with yawn as Snowpaw got her feet.

"Moonfall is calling for us. I think something is happening."

"How was it?" She asked as she fell into step behind her mentor. "Are you…?"

"Trying… but I'm Heronstar now, so it worked." She affirmed quickly. "But let's talk about it later!" She started to bound up the rocks lining the waterfall's face. Snowpaw followed, stumbling once from her uneasy sleep.

Moonfall was waiting for them at the top, her ears angled back slightly. "Heronstar, congratulations are usually in order, but I'm afraid there is no time." She turned her nose towards the dawn sun, just peeking over the hills. The clouds surrounding were tinged a pinkish red. It was certainly less harsh than the sunrise of the strange place in Snowpaw's dream, but for some reason it filled her with dread. A dread Moonfall only depend with her next words. "It's an omen of death… Heronstar, an attack on your camp is imminent… Ordinarily I avoid meddling unless instructed otherwise, but this is a matter of importance to Starclan. They don't want another clan destroyed."

Heronstar hissed a vile curse under her breath. "Of course, while I'm away…"

"It's no coincidence, I'm afraid… Ferretpaw has been spying on your camp." Moonfall said solemnly. "Blasphemously given himself a warrior name and all; I refused to call him by it! He still retains some Fieldclan scent, making him harder to detect, and knows the area. Perfect for Icestar and the rogue's purposes…"

"How do you know all this?" Snowpaw narrowed her eyes at the mysterious guardian.

Moonfall swiveled her wide-eyed gaze to the apprentice. "I know everything that happens to the clans in this valley. Such is my blessing and curse." Immediately, under the stare, Snowpaw wished she hadn't said anything. This cat creeped her out!

"Then there's no time to lose. Snowpaw I hope you are well rested!" Heronstar offered Moonfall a quick respectful dip of her head, then took off running at full speed without so much as a gesture for her to follow, leaving her to stagger into her more lumbering run in an attempt to keep up with the much faster cat.

Snowpaw glanced back over her shoulder to see Moonfall watching after them, expression curious. That cat and that place bothered her more than she'd like to admit, especially after her bizarre dream with the wild cat… It had warned her about a battle too, and now it seemed they were charging into one…


	35. Chapter 33

Before anything else as they approached camp, they heard the yowling and screeching.

Faint in the distance, as the sun rose higher into a bright sky behind them, while the two she-cats ran as fast and hard as they could, the sounds of the attack on their camp reached their ears.

They had cut right through Marshclan to get there faster (leaving a baffled patrol in their wake as they utterly ignored them) but Snowpaw's poor pads ached and were going raw from running (why was it always her paws?) … But, she just pushed herself harder. They needed to get there and help their clan. Both she and Heronstar were tired, but right now adrenaline and fear pushed them beyond their limits.

They needed to get there. How long had the raiders been there? What state was the camp in?

Was everyone still okay?

The two burst into camp like a hurricane. Heronstar didn't even take a breath to survey what was going on. With a furious yowl, she slammed into the nearest cat; a dark ginger and white rogue. Righteous fury blazed in the new leader's eyes. She wouldn't stand for this, and frankly Snowpaw agreed with her anger. She was sick of these cats terrorizing the valley!

Snowpaw looked for where she was most needed as Heronstar tumbled past locked in a whirlwind of claws with the rogue she-cat. It seemed that the attack had probably only just started when they had gotten into hearing range of it; most of the combating cats still looked quite fresh. No dens had been torn down. The warriors held the raiders at bay.

She couldn't see any Gorseclan cats. It looked like this was just the rogues. While the fewer numbers were a good thing, the attackers were still a sizable party, and all fearsome and dirty in their approach to fighting… and they didn't have Icestar here to control their bloodthirst in the slightest. She had seen their desire to kill other cats at the lost Gustclan battle… It worried her. Were they here on orders to take prisoners, or to eliminate the clan altogether?

A familiar dark-pointed pelt and slim body across camp drew her eye. While his rogue friends dealt with the cats guarding the entrance, he slipped into the elders den.

Ferretpaw.

Snowpaw, aware no other cat seemed to have noticed him, charged across the camp towards the den, swatting at any enemy that got in her way as they fought her clanmates. Anger surged tired muscles onward. That _traitor_! That spineless spying scum!

Batear and Waspsting had been protecting the den and were now engaged with a brown tabby and a grey bicolour respectively. Both were fighting fiercely; Waspsting was all but squashing the smaller rogue tom underneath her bulk, while Batear danced around his opponent. In the chaos, Snowpaw doubted they even noticed her.

She had every confidence the two would be okay, and right now, their most vulnerable clanmates, Houndleg and Murkstripe, were under threat.

Closer to the den entrance, Snowpaw heard voices. She crouched and snuck closer, hoping to catch Ferretpaw by surprise.

"So, it's true then…" Ferretpaw's voice; snide and aggressively charged as ever. "Crippled as a bird with broken wings! How very fitting for a punishment!" He laughed cruelly.

"You vile little snot! How dare you-!" A smacking sound of claw meeting flesh silenced Houndleg's indigent croak.

"Shut up, you old bag of fur! I'm taking with my former leader here, it's rude to interrupt…"

After glancing over her shoulder to check she was safe from behind, Snowpaw peeked around the den entrance, holding her body low.

Ferretpaw stood over Murkstripe as he lay in his nest, the two toms staring each other down. He held his front half up, but his hindquarters lay sprawled out and useless. Murkstripe was appearing brave, but he had to be aware of how much danger he was in. Houndleg was hunched further back in the den, having scrambled there after the blow that had left him with a bleeding cheek. Fear and disgust shone in his eyes in the dark of the den.

"Are you proud of yourself Ferretpaw, to betray your clan, and strike a respected elder?" Murkstripe asked evenly, showing no fear.

"Don't call me that!" The pointed tom screeched erratically, spitting into the tabby's face. "I'm Ferretstrike! The name that _you_ refused me!"

"You were held back because you had not yet shown the temperament of a true warrior! I can see now I made the right choice!" Murkstripe growled, with a flash of teeth. "A _traitor_ deserves no warrior name under Starclan!"

"It's all _your fault_!" Ferretstrike howled. "You and the rest of this soft _pathetic_ clan! I'm strong, and you're _weak_! You had no right to admonish me!"

Snowpaw narrowed her eyes as Ferretstrike appeared to be about to attack Murkstripe. She bunched her muscles, ready to leap. The idiot was so caught up in his moment that he hadn't even noticed her, but Houndleg and Murkstripe had. The elder nodded his head, just a little, and Murkstripe blinked once, very slowly. A cautious approval of what she was about to do.

"Did your really do all this; betray your clan and family, for just that?" Murkstripe sounded aghast.

"Well…" Ferretstrike hissed with a little smirk, unsheathing his claws and lifting a paw, ready to attack. "That and I just found it _fun_."

 _Now!_ Snowpaw pounced, smacking her forepaws down hard onto Ferretstrike's hips. She dug her claws in as hard as she could, feeling blood well beneath them. The tom shrieked in pain and surprise, trying to spin around to her, but she was powerful enough to drag him backwards and out of the den before he could do anything to stop her.

Her blood raced through her like fire.

"You!" He spat with rage as he whipped around, snapping his teeth together as he tried to bite her while she forced his hindquarters to the ground. He was much smaller and slighter than her. He was faster and more nimble, but now she had him in her grasp she had him beat on brute strength.

"Me." She snarled back quietly.

"Filthy kittypet!" Ferretstrike kicked out with his back legs as he struggled. Claws raked weakly along her belly. She ignored it.

Snowpaw bit into his spine as a retort. Not hard enough to do real damage, but enough to hurt. The yowl was strangely satisfying.

She pulled herself further along his body in order to completely pin him down as he scrambled to escape. She could easily kill him now, if she wanted to. It seemed Ferretstrike was aware of that fact, for his anger was now mixed with clear fear scent. She could hear his heart beating rapidly, out of rhythm with her own pounding in her chest. She brought her muzzle close to his face. "Get out, and _don't come back_ …" The sentence oozed threat. Snowpaw's place was Fieldclan. They were hers to protect, and she wouldn't allow slime like this to harm them again. He'd always been a piece of dogdung, but now he'd shown just how low he was.

She gave one last strong bite to the new rogue's shoulder, then loosened her grip. Ferretstrike slipped out from under her claws and ran. He didn't once look back to check on his new allies, all the way out of camp. Snowpaw huffed in disgust and contempt as his tail vanished from sight. A true coward at heart. And to think, she'd once just sought the vaguest of approval from him! Wanted him to get over his contempt for her origins! How he was littermates with Kiwifeather and Bushtail was beyond her!

As Snowpaw stood there, panting and bleeding slightly from the wounds to her belly, her battle-heated blood seemed to growl in dissatisfaction at the ease of dismissing Ferretstrike.

But there was still more to do to kick out the rest of the vermin yet. All around was still a hissing, fur-flying melee. Waspsting was back in front of the elders den. She gave the apprentice a firm nod, bleeding from a wound to her head, but eyes bright.

Snowpaw charged back into the fray.


	36. Chapter 34

The fight was brutal, that much Snowpaw could tell. Almost as nasty as the Gustclan battle, though she couldn't see any cats lying motionless yet, so that was a good sign.

The din in the Fieldclan camp was almost deafening. Dust and pine needles and fur kicked into the air from struggling combatants. Blood and anger and fear scent tainted the breeze.

She only had time to barely see Heronstar, now tangling with the rogue leader Sting, before she noticed a clanmate in need.

Snowpaw slammed into the side of a huge ginger tom that was bearing down on an injured Hedgewhisker, all but headbutting him to get him away from the senior warrior.

The two bulky cats when tumbling away, clawing and spitting at each other as other fighting cats had to leap out of their way.

This cat was stronger than her. For once she couldn't brute force her way through, so she tried to be more tactical. Snowpaw twisted about, a wriggling gecko hard to grab hold of. The rogue landed hits, but he couldn't pin her down as she landed her own right back.

It wasn't until their eyes met properly, having both backed off from each other a moment to catch their breath, that Snowpaw realized just which rogue this was. "You're…" It was the big red tom that had let her live back then…

He'd gotten in trouble at the gathering from her very much alive appearance, she remembered. It was clear the tom had been punished. His face and ears were a ruin of scars that weren't there the last time they'd met. One lip was torn, making the overlarge canine tooth that had already shown beneath his lips all the more prominent.

Fang stared back at her. "Blue-eyes." He grunted, eyeing her warily. "You're stronger now." Snowpaw wondered if he resented her for his suffering after showing her mercy.

"I guess so." She responded, equally as cautious in tone. Truthfully, she was nearly spent physically; it was taking a lot of will to not pant and show just how tired she was. The extra boost of energy from adrenaline was waning. She wasn't sure if she could beat Fang as it was now.

Perhaps it was worth trying to get him talking again then. She glanced at his scars. "I'm sorry…" And she was. She never wanted him to get hurt for helping her, no matter that he was a rogue. She got the impression he didn't like being one anyway.

Fang grunted. "It's done." He started to pad towards her in a circular motion; head held low, getting ready to pounce.

"You don't want to do this, do you?" She felt like she was echoing her desperate pleas from before.

"I'm doing what I have to in order to survive Blue-eyes." His claws slid out.

"You don't have to do _this_ to survive!" Snowpaw began to move in a motion mirroring his to keep him at bay. She unsheathed her own claws for self-defense. "There are other ways!"

"If I mess up again, Sting and Graves will kill me." He tossed his damaged head, spitting, clearly upset. "This was getting off lightly, considering. Sting was furious I let you live once... I can't make that mistake again!"

"You could leave them! Don't let them control you anymore when you hate it there."

He considered her for just a moment. "…I can't do that."

The huge tom pounced suddenly, and Snowpaw wasn't fast enough. The force of his paws connecting with her side knocked the air out of her and sent her sprawling onto the ground.

Okay so talking her way out was probably not an option.

She twisted her neck away as bared teeth came for it, kicking her back legs with what might she had left in her tired body to try and push Fang off. She was just barely holding him back. His claws were causing her blood to flow. Snowpaw gritted her jaws together with the effort, internally panicking. Her heartbeat was heavy in her ears. Time seemed to slow.

What should she do? What technique would get her out of this? _What could she do?_

 _Let your instincts instruct you when this battle comes._

Snowpaw's eyes went wide as she remembered the wild cat in her dreams and its words. Don't let your head override it, huh? Let her mind go blank and let her instincts take over…?

She took a breath. Inhale. A sense of calm washed over the fear, despite tooth and claw being moments away from ripping life from her.

The Bengal cat's blood _burned_.

Exhale.

Fang let out a surprised sound as Snowpaw suddenly found new strength, and with a powerful sweep of her hind legs in a sideways motion, knocked the tom off balance by striking his own. Viper-quick, her teeth latched onto a front limb that had gone out close to her face to steady himself. Blood welled up to meet her tongue, but she didn't taste it.

In fact, there was nothing in the world right now but her, and her opponent. No noise, no other cats, no camp. _Nothing_. A purr of satisfaction that didn't belong to her ran through the back of her calm mind.

Snowpaw hauled herself to her feet between her own force and the momentum of Fang trying to pull his leg out of her grasp. Her body moved on its own, avoiding a swipe with a duck of her head and twisting. Her paws launched at his hind legs again, claws and teeth aiming for whatever they could reach; delicate groin, vulnerable thigh muscles, sensitive paws.

Fang was practically howling; frustrated and in pain, but he was top-heavy and inflexible. His front half couldn't twist properly to meet her as she danced away every time he tried to turn or kicked his back legs out, keeping on his hindquarters with rapid strikes and quickly shredding his back legs and what of his underbelly she could reach to bloody ruin.

The satisfied purr grew louder. It and Fang was all Snowpaw could hear.

Eventually, the rogue's injuries gave way to her victory. He could barely stand on his back legs anymore. His paws were damaged and bleeding; he couldn't support his weight properly. Snowpaw stood and watched him sink to the ground in front of her.

"Well." He said as he looked up at her, sounding more worn than any cat had ever sounded. His eyes were tired; filled with a fearful sort of acceptance. He'd given up. "I don't know where that came from, Blue-eyes, but you've won." Fang shut his eyes and bared his throat to her. "Finish it."

She stared, feeling oddly weightless. The purr was encouraging and savage.

"What are you waiting for kittypet!?" Spat Fang. "End this already!" She took a step forward, claws still removed and bloody. "Let me see Summer again, if such a thing waits for a rogue…"

The sorrow in the ginger tom's voice, the heartbreak etched on his expression drew her focus.

Wait.

The purr cut off with a startled, disappointed noise.

What was she doing?

The world around her rushed back.

She didn't want to kill anyone.

"No…" She mewed, feeling light-headed all of a sudden, a little confused. She was aware of how she'd gotten to this point, and yet it hadn't felt like her doing it. "No, I won't do it."

"You beat me." Fang sounded confused, as if this was how a fight was supposed to end. "What, are you going to just let me go?"

"No… And, even if I did, you can't walk." An idea had come to her, but then maybe it was just because she was addled right now. "You're staying right there…" She shook her head, causing her to stumble slightly. She needed to lie down…

"As a prisoner?" Fang huffed, perplexed. "Is that how you clan cats do things? We took Gustclan cats prisoner…"

"You'll be away from the other rogues this way." She tried to explain part of her reasoning through the fog, looking around. She needed someone to watch him, get him out of the way of action to stop her clanmates from attacking him again… She needed to find Heronstar. She had been fighting Sting… She needed to find her.

Fang blinked slowly. His eyes went wide. "You…" He understood. "I see. Then I thank you for my life, Blue-eyes."

"Sure…" The apprentice glanced around. Possumtail was passing with Needletail. As always, Possumtail seemed unhurt, but Needleclaw was clearly missing some fur and had new wounds to show off. "Hey!" She flagged them down.

The pair of toms approached, perplexed as they took in the injured rogue on the ground. "This one is our prisoner now. Can you look after him?"

They exchanged a glance. "Sure…?" The word had barely left Needleclaw's mouth before Snowpaw took off running. "Woah! Where are you going?!"

"I need to find Heronstar!"


	37. Chapter 35

It was the small crowd of cats from both sides on the far side of camp, near the Pine Pile, that drew Snowpaw's weary attention. They were all standing around watching something; they'd stopped fighting.

Avoiding the few cats still fighting, she paced around to the side that was Fieldclan cats and pushed her way through to the front.

In the middle of the semi-circle of cats, Heronstar and Sting prowled about each other. A stalemate of two tired, bloody combatants.

The snarl fixed on Heronstar's face; blood trailing from a bite to her cheek and a scratch across her nose, was fearsome.

Sting looked quite thoroughly entertained. Perhaps a little miffed he hadn't been able to defeat the new leader yet. One of his eyes was shut, but Snowpaw couldn't tell if it was damaged. He also seemed to be favouring a paw.

The rogue glanced to the little gathering of cats they'd attracted. "We've drawn quite a crowd!" He crowed across to Heronstar, who just hissed back at him. "Oh, come now, beautiful." He put on a face of mock offence. "All you've done is spit and snarled at me. Where's your sense of back and forth? Dramatic flair?"

"Shut. Up." The tall she-cat responded slowly, full of venom. She kept her body low, ready to act. Snowpaw was worried. Heronstar had to be just as tired as her…

"No fun." Sting's tail lashed rhythmically as he pouted. He was trying to draw closer, but Heronstar was watching him and moved as he did. "Why so _angry_ , tall, grey and nasty?"

"You're attacking my camp!"

"Yeah but _what else_?"

Her eyes narrowed. "You killed my brother." The leader's voice rang with a mournful hollowness under the rage.

It was like a punch in Snowpaw's gut. Of course… _Cloudblaze_ … Immediately she felt guilty. She hadn't ever really asked how Heronstar was doing after his death. Honestly, she sometimes forgot they'd been littermates. Heronstar had mourned him, of course, but not extremely noticeably so. But then, that wasn't how she was… It made Snowpaw feel awful about not saying something to her.

"There it is!" Sting's mockingly enthusiastic tone was infuriating to listen to from the side-lines. She couldn't imagine how it was for Heronlegs. "A personal grudge to settle as well as defending your home from a vile intruder! How gallant!"

Heronstar hurled towards Sting with a screeching growl, clearly unable to hear anymore from him. Jeers and cheers towards the two cats from both sides egged the fight on as the two cats twisted in a dance of claw and fang.

"Get him Heronstar!" Snowpaw cried encouragingly. She wanted to help, but the fact no other cat made a move to help their respective leaders meant they must have told them to stay out of this. It was down to Heronstar and Sting alone.

Across the other side where the two struggled, Snowpaw could see the skinny, patchy-furred grey tom that was Sting's right hand. His deputy, of sorts. Graves looked even more unhealthy than he had at the gathering (not helped by his few injuries), but a light of malice burned bright in his gaze. She caught his pale eye, and he slowly curled his lips.

It took effort to suppress a shudder as she quickly returned to watching Heronstar. They were locked in a vice-grip of limbs and talons with each other, neither giving ground.

"You know," Sting was talking again, his voice heavy through pants of exertion. He was trying to get one paw, claws outstretched, closer to Heronstar's throat, but she was holding it back with shaking legs. She also currently had a mouthful of his tail and was not letting go. "You're tougher than your brother… He went down real easy."

Heronstar bit down harder on his tail, jerking her head back to yank on it, but Sting just let out a laugh to mask his pained response. "So touchy! You clan cats are too damn _sensitive_!"

Sting's ear the flicked. It was a small movement, but distinct, an almost circular twitch of a movement. Snowpaw noticed it and narrowed her eyes. It had almost looked like a signal… Though one she didn't recognize.

A grey blur raced across from the rogues.

Exhausted, but reacting instinctively, Snowpaw pounced forward to meet it.

But she wasn't the first to get there. Graves went rolling away from where Sting and Heronstar grappled as Gorseheart collided with his side.

And everything erupted again, the uneasy truce while watching the leaders fight broken by the rogue's treachery.

Snowpaw had to duck under a large paw that came flying for her head, then jerking her body and head up underneath the tabby to toss it off her. She quickly loss sight of Heronlegs and Sting in the new chaos.

The apprentice found herself standing back to back with Gorseheart as she faced the tabby; Gorseheart staring down Graves. She was too tired for this. She puffed her fur up to it's full height and arched her back, showing fangs still stained with blood as she tried to look as intimidating as possible. Bluffing energy she didn't have. Trying not to shake from her wounds. Trying to ignore how she was still feeling a bit dizzy. The spotted tabby was also looking worn and hurt. Maybe they would think better of this.

The tabby stared, whiskers quivering uncertainly.

Gorseheart's presence vanished from behind her. The growls and spits and sounds of claw hitting flesh and fur confirmed he was now fighting Graves.

"I don't have time for this." She snarled at the rogue impatiently. Partly, it was true. She would make rather make sure Heronstar was okay. But she also just wanted to sound tougher than she currently felt. "Do you?"

The cat straightened, bristling. Their mouth opened, but a horrific screech nearby broke them off. Almost every head in the camp turned towards the sound, stopping dead what they were doing.

Snowpaw turned her back on her enemy and ran towards the noise.

She passed Gorseheart, and saw Graves ahead, standing stiffly, tail held low. The she-cat followed his line of sight.

Heronstar stood over Sting, limp in the pine needles. Blood dripped from her pale muzzle. She looked pretty badly hurt, but she stood tall in that moment. Her eyes were cold with contempt as she observed the rogue leader. "Looks like the so-called leader of "Clawclan" didn't have nine-lives after all." Glassy eyes stared skyward, jaw bared still bared into his last defiant snarl.

Sting was dead.

"A fleabitten rogue to the end." Gorseheart spat quietly beside Snowpaw, causing her to jump a little. The tom rarely spoke.

"You…" Graves hissed as many of the rogues, seeing their dead leader, fled all around them with surprised wails. His pale, staring eyes glared between Sting's body and Heronstar. "Mark my words, clan cat. You'll regret this. The pain of loosing your brother will be nothing compared to what I'm going to do to you…" The skinny tom then turned, and ran away with the rest of his fellows, slim form slipping through the entrance tunnel and out into the new day.

Snowpaw honestly found Graves more intimidating than Sting had been. Sting was powerful and cruel, to be sure, but she got the impression Graves, despite his appearance was more cunning in his malicious attitude. Likely far more dangerous. An enemy she didn't want, but they sure had it now.

As the last rogue vanished from sight; a few clan cats pursuing them to make sure they really left, Snowpaw found herself sinking into a sit and letting out a deep sigh.

She needed to sleep for a moon.

Heronstar had watched Graves and the other members of "Clawclan" go and was now looking back at Sting's body as she padded around it. Her ears lay flat, a complicated expression on her face. Snowpaw wondered if her mentor had ever had to kill a cat before. She clearly had loathed Sting but taking a life… Snowpaw didn't want to imagine how she felt.

Heronstar then looked over the now-quiet camp. "Anyone who's still strong enough can take out the dirt." She called out, surprising strength still remaining in her voice as she walked away from Sting's body.

"We can do it." Waspsting moved forward, having left the elders den entrance. Poppypelt walked at her side with a nod. Both she-cats only had minor injuries.

"Make sure he's as far away from our burial ground as possible. I'd say leave him for the flies, but I don't want it stinking up our territory." Needleclaw spoke up with a snarl.

While the two warriors dragged Sting's body out of camp, Heronstar finally sank down to rest. It looked like she just couldn't stand anymore.

Deerspot and Lakegaze, who had been hiding in the medicine cat den being protected by warriors, appeared, going from cat to cat. Deerspot bustled up to Heronstar, but Snowpaw watched her send her away. "See the others first. I'm fine. I just need to rest."

"You do not." Deerspot argued with a grumble. "But very well; at least let me toss some horsetail and witch hazel at you to stop the bleeding." Heronstar relented that much, and the two she-cats offered each other a curt nod.

The medicine cat's angular head snapped towards Snowpaw. "You." The apprentice flinched despite herself at the sharp tone. "Healing, now."

"Yes ma'am." Snowpaw replied sheepishly.

"Can you walk?" The spotted tabby asked as she approached with a critical eye on Snowpaw's injures. "I hear we have you to thank for that big ginger lump with the shredded back legs."

"Um." Snowpaw dipped her head. "Sorry…" Deerspot huffed, so the apprentice just quickly answered her question. "I'm just really tired, honestly."

Deerspot grunted. "Wait here, I'll bring what I need."

Heronstar, despite looking like she'd fallen asleep on her paws, had clearly been listening; ears angled towards them. She blinked at Snowpaw as Deerspot walked away, and all she could do was offer her mentor an abashed look.

" _What_ big ginger lump is she referring to, Snowpaw?"


	38. Chapter 36

**AN: This is the last chapter! Wow, we've finally made it to the end of The Coming Storm! There's an epilogue chapter to come, then I'll post up "book" 3 "Cyclone" with the allegiances. Expect Cyclone to be slower updating as I am about to head back to my degree for the year.**

It wasn't until evening that night that things started to settle down again; blissful routine returning to Fieldclan.

Though the meals together sharing tongues were more on edge than usual, afraid the rogues might come back. Snowpaw didn't think so. They'd lost their leader. They were going to take a while to regroup after that. Icestar was going to be furious when he found out they'd failed so spectacularly.

The medicine cats had been around and offered first aid to everyone. While most of the warriors had minor to moderate wounds, only a few cats were badly hurt including Heronstar. Batear in particular was in a pretty bad way, but he'd live. He'd be spending a while off-duty though. They hadn't lost anyone this time. The only death had been Sting.

It felt like a miracle.

A couple of the cats had been giving Snowpaw a bit of a cold shoulder over keeping Fang alive and in camp, but she maintained that 1. He needed to get away from the rogues and didn't really want to be there anyway and 2. He was too hurt to send away. She wouldn't apologize for not killing him. And now, they had a prisoner who knew one side of their enemy inside and out.

He would be sleeping in the medicine cat den for a little while, but then they'd have to figure out what to do with him. He had not resisted so far and did as he was told quietly. Snowpaw wondered if he was reeling a bit from the news of Sting's death.

Kiwifeather was grooming her while she mutually washed the she-cat's head when Heronstar suddenly appeared, flicking her tail in dismissal to a fussing Deerspot. Snowpaw paused in her licking to follow the new leader cross camp from the medicine cat den over to the Pine Pile. A meeting?

Sure enough, Heronstar carefully made her way to the top, minding her wounds, and called the traditional words.

"She must be going to choose her deputy…" Kiwifeather murmured as she stood. Of course. It had already been much longer than was normal, under the circumstances. Some muttered about it being a bad omen, but what else could go wrong at this point?

As Snowpaw gathered with the rest of the clan, she turned her head to see Murkstripe poking his head out of the elders den with Houndleg. A sad look of pride on his face. He caught her looking and offered a little nod.

"It's time to announce our new deputy." Heronstar began, her voice strong. The rest had clearly done her a world of good, but she was still likely putting some of that strength on as an act.

The clan had two cats in mind, and surely, they were the ones that Heronstar was thinking about. Two respected senior warriors… Spiralfoot and Hedgewhisker. Both were sitting a little straighter than usual.

"I say these words before StarClan, so that the spirits of our warrior ancestors may hear and approve of my choice." Heronstar continued, pausing only for a moment. Did she have any doubt? No, her eyes looked clear and confident. "The new deputy of Fieldclan is Spiralfoot."

The tom blinked, perhaps a little surprised. "Thank you Heronstar…" He mewed with deep gratitude, dipping his head. "I will serve you and Fieldclan to the best of my ability."

Snowpaw glanced to Hedgewhisker where Bushtail was giving her a little comforting lick on the shoulder. The she-cat looked a little disappointed, but she moved to congratulate Spiralfoot all the same. The clan seemed happy. He was a popular choice. Snowpaw recalled that he had been left in charge of the camp several times when both Heronstar and Murkstripe had been out.

"There are a couple of other matters to address." Heronstar spoke up again, and the noise died down. She sat atop the Pine Pile, tail curled around her feet and seeming to be trying to hide her new wounds that were covered in poultice. "First, you are likely all aware that the rogue named Fang is in the camp after Snowpaw defeated him."

A few cats hissed. Heronstar fixed them with a look then moved on. "He is our prisoner, yes, but is to be treated with respect that you would offer any other cat. For now, he will remain in the medicine cat den. After he is better… We will decide what to do with him." Her long whiskers twitched as she surveyed her cats. Nobody said anything more, so Heronstar seemed to consider the topic done.

"We will talk about our next steps when we've all rested a little more… But I do have one more task to complete this evening." She flicked her tail at Snowpaw. "Come forward." Snowpaw shuffled, surprised and perhaps a little apprehensive.

She really hoped she wasn't going to get told off about the Fang thing in front of the whole clan.

But Heronstar didn't look cross. Quite the opposite in fact. The look she offered was proud and reassuring.

It clicked. "Snowpaw, you've proven yourself time and again. Your bravery, your heart, and your loyalty to Fieldclan. More so than perhaps any clan-born cat here… You have learned all I could teach you… You've made your journey to Starfalls, and then despite the long journey proved yourself once more in battle today. It's time." Snowpaw found herself trembling not with fear or tiredness, but with an immense sense of self-achievement, of excitement.

Heronstar began to speak the traditional words.

"I, Heronstar, leader of Fieldclan, call upon my warrior ancestors to look down on this apprentice. They have trained hard to understand the ways of your noble code, and I commend them to you as a warrior in their turn." Snowpaw found herself glancing back to where Kiwifeather and Bushtail stood. Kiwifeather held herself up, tail all a quiver with excitement. Bushtail offered her a nod of approval.

"Snowpaw, do you promise to uphold the warrior code and to protect and defend your Clan, even at the cost of your life?"

Snowpaw met Heronstar's gaze evenly. She had already sworn this much to herself. She had already risked her life more than once. "I do." She would do what it took to protect her new family and the life she had here.

"Then by the powers of Starclan, I give you your warrior name. Snowpaw, from this moment on you will be known as Snowthaw. StarClan honours your courage and strength, and we welcome you as a full warrior of Fieldclan." Heronstar hopped down from the pine stump and rested her muzzle on the newly named Snowthaw's head, and she moved to lick her former mentor's shoulder.

As the cats around them cheered her new name, Heronstar gave her a kind blink. "You'll sit your vigil alone tonight, but for now enjoy the moment." She gave her a quick lick as Snowthaw dipped her head in thanks. "Congratulations, Snowthaw. As your mentor, I am so proud to have trained you. You are a fine warrior." The tall she-cat inclined her head to the clan as they pressed in. "Now go on and celebrate with your clan."

"Thank you for everything, Heronstar."

"Not your name. You'll have to go thank Murkstripe for that. He wouldn't stop bugging me until I promised him I'd use it."

Snowthaw laughed lightly. "I will." She then turned and embraced the press of her clan as they cheered her name into the evening air.

"Snowthaw! Snowthaw! Snowthaw!"

The chill was leaving the nights now. Newleaf was on the way.

 **EPILOGUE**


	39. Epilogue

**AN: Here it is, the epilogue! I may or may not take a little break before starting again with part 3. Be sure to check in on the tumblr for any updates! Thanks so much for reading!**

It was late. The rest of the clan was sleeping, but Heronstar couldn't relax for some reason. So instead, she sat outside on the top of the Pine Pile, looking at the stars.

Maybe it was her aching wounds. Maybe her sore muscles; she was overtired. Maybe the fact she was now sleeping alone in the leader's den. She wasn't used to not having Waspsting and the rest of the warriors sleeping around her. Snowthaw had likely taken her nest in the warriors den now. She was so proud of her now former apprentice. That kittypet was a better warrior than most. It was almost like she was born for the wild. Perhaps Starclan had brought her fate to them…

The stars above were bright but held no peace or answers for her tonight. Heronstar now wished she hadn't been too proud to turn down Waspsting's offer to sleep with her tonight.

No. It wasn't any of those things. It was her mind, still working on overdrive from all she had experienced that day. How could she possibly sleep? She'd gone from deputy to leader in a matter of a few hectic days, so suddenly. Heronstar had thought she'd never get there, if she was truthful. Murkstripe was about the same age as her and had only lost one life. She figured she would retire before _she_ became a leader… That had been fine in her mind. Deputy was a fine position to have. She had been content, but now everything had changed.

She'd received her lives from Starclan; an experience she still found somewhat unnerving. To see her parents… Cloudblaze… other cats they'd lost along the way again had been bittersweet. The process of receiving lives itself had been largely unpleasant.

The tall she-cat sighed. Her head drooping slightly. She really needed to sleep… Tomorrow she would call Spiralfoot and the other senior warriors together to discuss their next move. The valley was getting more and more dangerous between Icestar, the rogues, and the twolegs… If they were also going to start killing cats, then the clan would need to take precautions. As it was, she was going to tell them all to never travel alone and never allow themselves to be seen by twolegs. At least for a while… Extra patrols, extra scouts… Ugh.

Heronlegs shook her head and laboriously got to her feet. She turned towards her den when movement in the camp caught her eye.

Deerspot, creamy pelt easy to see in the dark, was crossing the clearing at pace. "Heronstar." She called quietly as possible, her tone urgent. The medicine cat's eyes were wide, her fur ruffled like she had just leapt out of her nest.

"What is it?" Heronstar hopped off the Pine Pile, avoiding wincing as she pulled a wound.

"I just received a prophecy from Starclan!" Deerspot hissed, causing Heronstar to straighten. "It's the first clear communication I've had from them in moons… Did they say anything to you when you received your lives?"

"No… Nothing I would call an omen. It was Moonfall that warned us about the attack. What was this prophecy?"

" _Starclan's Strength will be Fieldclan's guide._ " Deerspot's tail was twitching in an agitated manner. "I'm not sure what it could mean about their strength guiding us... The clan needs a guide? For what?"

Heronstar didn't know.

The stars above shone, but were silent. Starclan sure didn't seem like they were going to elaborate.


End file.
